


A Liar's Truth

by internetpistol



Series: Miya Four Vs. The World [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Atsumu Cries Over Sakusa Too Much, Bastards To Lovers, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Fluff and Crack, Homophobia, M/M, Miya Twins Dynamic, Rimming, Sexual Tension, Smut, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 49,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/internetpistol/pseuds/internetpistol
Summary: In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?
Relationships: Komori Motoya & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Miya Four Vs. The World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150154
Comments: 1253
Kudos: 6000





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be split into two chapters. I'm actually already done writing the other half, it's just in the process of being edited and beta-read. Once that's done, it'll be up, most likely by tomorrow! So, that's about it. Peace.

**_T MINUS 2 HOURS TO THE WEDDING_ **

“‘Ya ready, Omi-kun?” 

Sakusa blanches. “ _You’re_ calling me that now?”

Osamu chuckles, shrugging his shoulders as he leans against the door frame. “Guess he rubbed off on me. But really. Ready? ‘Ya gotta kiss the groom, y’know? It’s gonna be fuckin’ gross.”

He sighs deeply and they both ignore how badly he’s trembling.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good.” Osamu says. “Because Tsumu’s already cryin’ and we haven’t even gotten to the walkin’ down the aisle part yet. One of ya has to have their shit together out there and God knows it ain’t gonna be him.”

Sakusa shakes his head as if disappointed, but the fond smile on his face betrays it. “He’s hopeless. Go back to your twin. He needs you more than I do.”

Osamu nods. He turns around, pauses, and without looking at Sakusa, asks, 

“You’ll take care of him, won’t ya? I’m pretty much entrustin’ my whole life to you too, y’know? Ya promise to take care of him?”

There’s a long silence after that question, a weighty one that only they would understand, before he answers. 

“With my life.”

Sakusa watches the way Osamu’s hand squeezes the doorknob before he nods slowly. “I’ll hold ya to that.”

As the door clicks shut, he’s left standing in front of the full body mirror. 

He takes a moment to give himself a look over. Letting his eyes roam from his carefully styled hair, light makeup, and fancy tux, he’s reminded once again, that he’s actually getting married.

To Miya fucking Atsumu.

He kind of wanted to laugh and say, _who would’ve fucking thought?_ But he also kind of thought that maybe, from the moment he first laid his eyes on him all those years ago, he already knew it could never be anyone but him. 

Maybe it was having that knowledge, that _gut feeling,_ from the very first time they met, that made everything as terrifying as it was.

Maybe it was just that Sakusa fell too deeply too fast and _that_ was why he tried everything in his power to stop it from happening. And yet even then, nothing could. 

God knows he tried. 

“Omi!” 

Sakusa sighs heavily, turning around to face his cousin. “Komori, call me that again and I’ll skin you alive.”

Komori grins at him, excitedly skipping his way over, and throwing an arm around him. 

“You love me.” He beams, “And I’m proud of you.”

Despite himself, Sakusa can’t help but smile. “I do love you, I guess. And I’m proud of me too.”

Who would’ve thought? 

Looking back at how it all was back then, who would’ve fucking thought?  
  


_**T MINUS 11 YEARS BEFORE THE WEDDING** _

Sakusa Kiyoomi grew up as an only child raised by two very religious and very strict parents. Which was, in a lot of ways, fucking hilarious, because he grew up becoming absolutely nothing like how they wanted him to be. 

His favorite childhood story will always be the day he apparently spoke for the first time. His dad had been carrying him in his arms and trying to convince him to say the word ‘ _Dada’_ for a full thirty minutes. 

Instead, little Sakusa opened his mouth, took a breath, and in the sweetest, tiniest voice they’d ever heard coming from a baby boy, said,

“No ❤️”

It’s the perfect foreshadowing of the rest of the shit his parents were going to be up against as he grew older. Which is why, like Sakusa said, it was his favorite childhood story. He kind of applauded his one year old self. 

His one year old self who was able to say no to his father without a hint of fear or hesitation, was to this day, the bravest he’d ever been.

Sakusa Kiyoomi grew up studying in an all-boys school where priests controlled more than taught. He learned at an early age to love your neighbor as you love yourself, do not rape, do not steal, be faithful to your spouse, and also don’t eat meat during Holy Week and don’t be gay? 

(He didn’t really get those last ones. Why the hell did Jesus care about meat during that one particular week and what did he have against gay people? He’s the one who made them. They’re straight up vibing.)

Sakusa Kiyoomi was fifteen the first time he saw Miya Atsumu across a volleyball net. 

His hair the ugly color of mustard, a cocky smile, and the thickest pair of thighs he had ever seen on a boy his age, covered in sweat. 

The first thing he remembers thinking at that moment, as the whistle blew signaling the first serve, staring at Miya Atsumu as Miya Atsumu stared back at him, was one of the first things he learned in elementary school. 

_Gay people go to hell._

Sakusa Kiyoomi is fifteen when he first lays his eyes on Miya Atsumu and learns that in this world, he was allowed to be absolutely anything but himself. 

__

Miya Atsumu grew up as a twin brother. The _better, more good-looking, more talented_ twin brother, as he’d always said. Osamu didn’t really care what he said. 

_(Whatever the hell makes ya sleep at night, Tsumu.)_

Their parents loved them, spoiled them, Atsumu with all the comic books he wanted and Osamu with all the snacks he wanted. And in return, the twins paid them back with love and volleyball awards. I mean, they also paid them back with screaming matches and terrible temper tantrums but there was always love. 

Atsumu’s favorite childhood story is the same as Osamu’s favorite. 

They’d been about eight when their parents had left them at home for an hour to go grocery shopping, which was a mistake on their part. In their defense though, the twins had always been fairly independent and trustworthy (in _some_ ways) and it’s not like they knew their sons would take that once in a lifetime opportunity to watch porn for the first time. 

A few minutes in, Osamu pressed the pause button and turned to look at his brother, looking slightly constipated. 

“Is it weird that I liked lookin’ at the boy more than the girl?” Osamu asked in a hushed, panicked whisper. “Tsumu, I ain’t weird, am I?”

Atsumu wrapped an arm around him and squeezed lightly, shaking his head. “Course not, Samu. You couldn’t be weird.” He says, sounding so sure of himself, “‘Cause I liked lookin’ at him too. I mean, I liked lookin’ at both of them, but him a little more, ya know? And I ain’t weird. So you ain’t weird either.”

After sharing a hug, they end up arguing over how the hell you delete the browser history.

They’re ten years old when they’re finally able to put a name to the feeling. They’re twelve years old when they’re able to say it out loud and call themselves what they are without feeling unsure. 

Miya Osamu, gay. Miya Atsumu, bisexual. 

Their mother cries and hugs them both, telling them she’ll love them no matter what. Their father’s eyes widen and he points excitedly at his wife exclaiming, “See, I knew it. I knew it! Honey, you owe me a new office chair!”

After they come out to the only people who really matter, they don’t have an issue coming out to anyone else. Sometimes, it went well. Sometimes, it went terribly. That’s just how the world worked, they learned at the tender age of twelve. And as time went on, it’s something they accepted and got used to. 

At an early age, they learned that this would be the rest of their lives. 

Whoever stayed, they’d be grateful for. Whoever chose to step out of their lives because of it, didn’t deserve to be there in the first place. That’s what their parents had told them and what they learned to believe as true.

Which is why by the time they’re in middle school having to coming out for the fiftieth time and are told by some skinny kid, “You know, gay people go to hell!” He is answered with nothing but a shrug from both twins. 

Atsumu thinks, _I mean, yesterday I made Osamu sit in on my Biology exam for me ‘cause I didn’t study, so if I’m going to hell, it’ll probably be for that._

Miya Atsumu is fifteen when he first sees Sakusa Kiyoomi across a volleyball net. 

That day, as the whistle blows signalling his first serve, as he stares at Sakusa Kiyoomi and Sakusa Kiyoomi stares back at him, he learns what the word _beautiful_ really means. 

__

They shake hands at the end of the match. Itachiyama managed to beat Inarizaki and become champions, but it was a fairly close match. 

They were good enough to make it a challenge. _He_ was outstanding. 

When Sakusa stands in front of Atsumu, their hands outstretched, there seems to be a moment of hesitation that comes over the both of them.

Atsumu is the first to break it, taking the other’s hand and shaking it firmly. 

“Good game, yeah?” He says, a cocky smile on his face. He has a strong Kansai dialect. 

Sakusa swallows. 

“Yeah.” He answered, before turning away in a hurry. 

Later that night, when Sakusa lies in bed, he pumps and strokes and thinks of a face and the sound of a particular voice speaking in a particular dialect. He comes twice. 

And then, he cries for a very, very long time.

The next time he receives a confession from a girl he barely knows, for the first time after years of giving out different forms of cold rejection, he says yes. 

He thinks, _this is the only way I’m allowed to live and it’s the only way I’ll allow myself to live._

Nobody needs to know whose name he moans in the depths of the night. 

He lasts a year with her and in a surprising but not really surprising turn of events, she’s the one who breaks up with him over the fact that he apparently loved volleyball more than her. 

He didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t exactly wrong. 

He’s upset but he realizes that what he was feeling wasn’t heartbreak, but defeat. 

He sighs and thinks, well, at least I don’t have to pretend to enjoy making out with her anymore.

And then he thinks, wow, that is _fucked up._

The only person he tells is Komori. The only person he knew he could trust was Komori.

_I think I’m gay,_ he says one night during a sleepover. His cousin is silent for a long time before resting a hand on his knee and saying, _thank you for telling me._

He tears up a little and Komori says nothing, just leaves his hand on his knee, and then squeezes it once he’s okay.

Komori was the first person who made him feel like maybe, just maybe, someday it would be okay. It _could_ be okay. Even during the days that his school makes him forget, even during the days his parents say things that make him forget, he forces himself to remember Komori’s reassuring smile and hand on his knee and it’s what gets him through when nothing else seems to work. 

He’s seen Miya Atsumu a few more times since the first time and every single time, always through a volleyball net, he feels a surge of anger and resentment that’s hard to keep down. 

Atsumu could probably tell. He always looked annoyingly amused whenever Sakusa snapped at him, as if everything was just a fucking joke. 

He would never understand.

Every time he saw him, all Sakusa could think was, _this is all your fault._

_This is your fucking fault. Give me back the normal life you cost me. Take responsibility._

  
  


**_T MINUS 2 HOURS TO THE WEDDING_ **

When Osamu opens the doors, the first thing he hears is the word _‘SUNARIIIIIIIIN’_ in the form of a sob. 

The first thing he sees is his brother on his knees, crying so hard that he’s ruining his makeup that’s been retouched twice, as Suna tiredly wiped his tears away with a tissue.

“Atsumu, please, ya fuckin’ drama queen,” Suna begs, cringing at the residue left on the tissue. “Yer gettin’ married in a few hours, get it together.”

“I _caaaaaaan’t,”_ He cries, “I’m just… so _happy._ I’m so happy. I’m gettin’ married, Rin.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Osamu says, finally making his presence known, kneeling down by Suna and his brother. “For cryin’ out loud, Tsumu. Yer bein’ a mess. Don’t expect me to cover for you out there if ya can’t get it together. I stepped in for yer Biology exam but I ain’t gettin’ married in yer place, ya hear me?”

Atsumu sniffs and pouts as Osamu grabs the tissue in Suna’s hand and takes charge of looking after him the way he has his whole life. 

He’s relieved he has Sakusa to take over that role now. But a part of him can’t help but feel a little left behind. He’s always been Atsumu’s other half. He’s always been The Other Miya. 

Okay, _maybe_ he was still in the middle of trying to accept that that’s about to change. Sue him.

Maybe it’s a twin thing but Atsumu seems to pick up on it immediately and stops crying to throw his arms around his brother. 

Osamu grunts and tries to push him off but Atsumu only hugs him tighter.

“Get off me, ya scrub.” 

“No.” Atsumu says. “I love ya.”

Osamu tries not to start crying too. “Ya should, after everythin’ I’ve done for ya. Now, go get yer makeup done again.” 

Atsumu makes a tiny noise of confirmation and peels himself off. 

“I love ya.” He repeats. “Say it back.”

“No.”

“Samu.”

“I love ya.” Osamu relents. “Go get yer makeup fixed.”

Atsumu stands up, smoothing his tux down, and glances at his brother and Suna. 

“You two aren’t gonna kill each other on my wedding day, are ya?”

Suna rolls his eyes and Osamu does the same. 

“Course not.” Suna scoffs, punching Atsumu’s shoulder. “We’ll do it tomorrow. The fuck d’ya take us for, huh?”

Atsumu looks them both over for a second longer before nodding and giving them both a shaky smile. “Thanks.”

“Sap.” Osamu deadpans. “I said go get yer makeup fixed.”

He finally does.

Osamu and Suna stay planted in their positions for a while, watching Atsumu go, before turning to look at each other. 

It’s awkward. 

It’s always been, the past months they’d had to be left with each other, but it’s warm just the same.

Suna shoves him lightly with his elbow. “How’re ya feelin’? He’s gettin’ married before you. Who woulda thought there was someone out there crazy enough to take him on, huh?”

A very small part of Osamu thinks, _it could’ve been me._ But he pushes that very small voice down and instead says, “Sakusa Kiyoomi’s always been fuckin’ insane, though. Tsumu’s just a part of why.”

Suna hums. “Those two… are changin’ the fuckin’ world, aren’t they?”

Osamu crosses his arms in front of his chest, exhales deeply. “Two of the most famous volleyball players in the god damn country’re about to get married, Rin. And they’re fuckin’ gay. Doesn’t get any more world changin’ than that.”

“Who woulda thought back then, y’know?” Suna muses. “That this could happen?”

“Who woulda thought?” Osamu echoes, voice nearly a whisper.

  
  


_**T MINUS 10 YEARS BEFORE THE WEDDING** _

Sakusa was chosen to join the Japan All Youth Training Camp. His parents are over the fucking moon. 

They’d been on his case ever since he and his girlfriend broke up. He couldn’t help but feel bad for them. They’d been trying to cheer him up for months when he didn’t even need any cheering up. 

You know what _would_ cheer him up? Being able to come out without the threat of getting kicked out of his home. 

Or maybe like, some new gloves would be nice. Maybe he could tell them to buy him some fancy looking gloves. Black ones instead of white. The power those would hold. 

They’d probably give him whatever the fuck he asked for right now with the way they were bragging about him to their snotty rich friends. Maybe he should just come out now while they’re at a high. 

Like, _guys, thanks for all the support, I’m great, aren’t I? Top 3 in the nation, that’s me! Road to sports scholarship! You proud? You should be. Oh and by the way, I’m gay._

They couldn’t get mad at that, could they?

Komori is invited too. So, that’s one concern out of the way. At least he’d have one person there who he knew he could tolerate. Hopefully, they have the luxury of choosing their roommates. 

The night before he leaves for the training camp, he’s forced into another one of their family bonding evenings. His mom started them ever since he’d told them about his breakup. He’s not quite sure how this counted as bonding, though. 

The TV was on but it was on the news channel, his mom was reading some romance novel, his dad was on his laptop, and he honestly just wanted to go upstairs and take a long, hot shower before packing up.

The last straw is when the news starts talking about a high school senior who’d committed suicide. Apparently, he’d left a note where it implied that he did it because he was gay. 

Well, that’s _very_ comforting. That sure didn’t make him wanna throw up.

Sakusa shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, hiding the fact that they were starting to tremble.

“Poor kid.” His mom sighs, shaking her head, “His parents should’ve done something about it when he was younger.”

“It’s much easier to change when you start them young.” His dad adds.

Sakusa gulps. “Is that really something you can change?”

“Of course, you can.” His dad answers, sounding so sure of himself, that it almost convinces him too. “You can change anything about yourself as long as you work hard enough. Especially, if they’re things that aren’t good for you.”

Sakusa wondered how exactly that worked. What exactly he had to do to… _change._ He’d already tried everything he could think of. 

The journey involved lots of movies, porn, staring at girls to see if there’s something, _anything,_ that could make him feel something more. 

(It probably made him look like a pervert and it probably freaked some of them out. He’s sorry for that.)

Hell, he even dated a girl for a whole year. All _that_ proved was that he couldn’t fucking do it. 

Girls are pretty. They’re cute, they’re soft, and they weren’t hard on the eyes. He liked looking at them and he liked talking to some of them. But that’s all it was and all he felt that it ever could be. He dated a girl for an entire god damn year and yet he couldn’t feel for her even _half_ of what he felt for Yamazaki Kento or Tom Holland or fucking... 

Miya Atsumu. God damn him. 

He didn’t even talk to any of these people. Two were celebrities. He barely even got to see Atsumu, and their longest conversation lasted two minutes and consisted of nothing but swear words and declarations of war. And yet, he would’ve given his girlfriend away for a chance at nipping at those god forsaken thighs just once. 

Jesus Christ.

Change? How the fuck was he supposed to just change? If he knew, he would’ve done it by now.

He looked at the TV screen, at the picture of an eighteen year old boy, just two years older than him, who’d taken his own life because he couldn’t bear the weight of who he was. 

He thinks, _if I can’t make myself change, is that all I’ll have left?_

He stands up at that thought, turning for the stairs hurriedly. He tastes bile in the back of his mouth.

“I need to pack.”

__

“Fuck you, Samu. Why aren’t ya more upset?” Atsumu exclaimed, hands on his hips as he stared at his brother’s hunched back. 

“I _am_ upset.” Osamu retorts tiredly. “But if anything… I’m upset that I’m not as upset as I thought I’d be.”

Atsumu was invited to the All Youth Training Camp. Osamu wasn’t. 

The two have always had an intense rivalry growing up. When every single person you know associates you with another, barely ever seeing you as your own person, you tend to compensate in any way you know how. 

Both of them strive to be better than the other, more talented, more skilled, more muscular, smarter, stronger, _anything._ And in turn, despite all the bruises, fights, and screaming matches, they push each other past their limits. 

They push each other to be _better._

Secretly, deep down, that’s all they really wanted for each other.

Atsumu, despite being cocky and competitive, especially when it came to his twin, didn’t fucking like playing volleyball without him. It’s the only way he’d ever played and the only way he ever planned to play. And he’d always seen it as a given that Osamu felt the exact same way. 

They’d be playing volleyball together for the rest of their lives and that’s the only future Atsumu ever saw.

_Not as upset as he thinks he should be?_

Atsumu sees red.

“Samu. What the fuckin’ hell s’that supposed to mean?” 

“It means,” Osamu says, after he finishes tying his shoes, standing up to face him, “I think that skill-wise, we’re pretty much on the same level,”

“Nah, m’still head ‘n shoulders above ya.” Atsumu scoffs.

“Let me finish, ya scrub.” Osamu huffs. “I _said,_ skill-wise, I think we’re about the same. But, when it comes to love for the game? That fire’s a little brighter in you than it ever was in me, Tsumu.” 

Atsumu can sort of read between the lines of what his brother is saying. He doesn’t wanna admit it. Instead, he turns away. 

“That’s lame.” He simply says, “Who the fuck am I s’posed to room with, huh?”

Osamu raises his eyebrows, mouth forming a smirk. “Y’know... Sakusa Kiyoomi’s probably gonna be there.”

“Shut the fuck up, Samu.” Atsumu says under his breath. “Just… shut up.”

__

“Your toss was too low, Miya.” Sakusa deadpans.

“No, it fuckin’ wasn’t.” Atsumu spits out, venomously. “You’ve been on my case the entire goddamn time we’ve been paired together. What’s yer problem, huh, Omi? What’s up yer fuckin’ ass?”

 _Too low,_ his ass. He was crowned the best setter in high school volleyball for a reason. And Sakusa Kiyoomi may be hot but he wasn’t going to take _anyone_ talking shit about his sets sitting down.

“Stop calling me Omi.” Sakusa says between gritted teeth paired with a vicious glare. If Atsumu weren’t Atsumu, he’d be intimidated. “I told you to call me Sakusa, is that so hard to do?”

“Sakusa’s too long, s’a fuckin’ mouthful, is what it is.” Atsumu says playing with the ball in his hands. “Omi’s cute. Omi’s the nickname yer bein’ given by the best setter in the nation, so jus’ be grateful ‘n fuckin’ nail my sets, ya hear?”

“You being the best setter in the nation means _shit_ to me.” He retorts. “I’m the best ace. Give me the fucking sets I want.”

Atsumu would be so god damn upset right now if he wasn’t equally turned on. 

As he tosses the ball again, higher this time, a little further from the net, two thoughts go through his head.

 _First,_ was there even the slightest possibility that Sakusa Kiyoomi could be gay?

 _Second,_ if he was, was there even the slightest possibility that he’d be up for a few rounds of hate fucking?

Atsumu’d never experienced any form of fucking but that was starting to sound like a great place to start. 

Sakusa nails his spike. 

He gives Atsumu a flat look. “Now, was that so hard to do?”

Oh, Atsumu could name something hard right about now. 

Being gay and sixteen was tough. 

Being gay and sixteen in front of someone this good looking was not helping his case.

He smiles his signature cocky smile. “You were hittin’ my other sets just fine, Omi-Omi. You hit all my sets perfectly, so ya don’t needa be so cranky all the time.”

“Omi-Omi…” Sakusa repeats to himself, as if questioning his entire existence, slowly turning around to walk away and get a drink. “Fucking… Omi-Omi…”

Atsumu cocks his head.

He feels a presence behind him and turns around, recognizing the face to be someone named Komori. A guy from Omi’s team.

“I think you broke him.”

Atsumu thinks, _no, I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around._

He crouches down, hides his face in his knees, and screams a little bit. 

__

This just had to be the cherry on top of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s long day, long week, long fucking _life._

“So, which d’ya prefer, Omi-Omi?” Atsumu asks, in that flippant way he always does, motioning to their shared bunk bed for the next few days. “Top or bottom?”

Sakusa turns to look at him and Atsumu’s staring at him with one eyebrow raised, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. 

He knew what he was doing. 

Oh god, he fucking _knew_ what he was doing, didn’t he? Those rumors he’d heard from the players that Atsumu was gay were true, weren’t they?

There’s a pause.

_This is a problem._

“Give me a minute.” Sakusa says, dropping his bags on the floor. He walks to the bathroom, gently closes the door behind him, turns the lock, sinks down into a crouch, bunches up the lower half of his sweater, bites into it, and screams into the wool.

He takes a deep breath. In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be _fine._

When he clicks the door back open, he hears Atsumu’s voice, probably talking to someone on the phone as he says, “- and we’re _roommates._ ”

A voice in Sakusa’s core memory goes, _oh my god, they were roommates._

“Both.” He speaks up, making Atsumu jump, reflexively hanging up on whoever he was talking to. Probably his twin, if Sakusa had to make a guess.

Atsumu visibly swallows. “What was that, Omi?”

Two can play at this game. 

At least for this week, when it’s just the two of them, in the privacy of these four walls, he can allow himself to play at this game. 

Maybe, it’s the only time in his life he’ll ever get to play.

“I’m okay with both.” Sakusa clarifies, walking up to Atsumu with his chin tilted up, as if challenging him, taking the opportunity to let his eyes roam over his facial features. 

“Top or bottom. I’m leaving the choice to you, Miya.”

Atsumu takes in a shaky breath, licking his lips at their sheer closeness. 

“U-uh…” _Get your shit together, Miya Atsumu, Samu would be disappointed in you right now._

He steels himself and looks Sakusa straight in the eye, making sure he sounds as suggestive as he possibly can when he says, “I’ll take bottom then. Top’s all yours.”

There’s a look in Sakusa’s eyes at that moment, behind the brave front he was putting up, which was how Atsumu could tell that he was just as affected by him as he was by Sakusa. 

(Atsumu thinks back to his earlier thought process, _was there even the slightest possibility that Sakusa Kiyoomi could be gay,_ and the answer is yes. There was now, at least, a 50% chance that he was. Maybe even higher.)

The boy merely nods, reaching for one of his bags, to start unpacking. 

“We can switch whenever you’d like, though.” Atsumu adds for good measure, flopping down onto his temporary bed. “I kinda wanna get the feel of both, y’know what I mean, Omi-kun?”

Atsumu isn’t sure if he just imagines it, but he thinks he hears a choking sound. 

(Okay, maybe 60%.)

__

“Do you think Miya’s gay?” Sakusa asks unprompted, as they eat their lunch.

Komori chokes on broccoli. “I… what?”

“Do you think he’s gay.” He repeats, as if this was a very normal conversation to be having with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“Uh…” Komori starts, slowly putting his utensils down, clasping his hands together, “I’ve… heard certain rumors but I wouldn’t know if they’re true.”

Sakusa hums, staring into nothing.

Komori realizes he’s treading on tough waters here, but he has to ask. “Why, do you… like him or something?” 

Sakusa doesn’t look disgusted, doesn’t deny it vehemently, doesn’t even seem to be surprised at the question. 

Komori tilts his head, thinks, _this is… new._

“No.” Sakusa says finally, after seemingly giving it some thought. “I don’t… I think.”

“You think?”

There’s a long silence between the two as they continue eating their lunches. What breaks it is,

“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone’s guts so much that you want to have sex with them?”

Komori actually chokes for real this time. A few rice particles fly onto the table and Sakusa visibly grimaces, backing away.

 _“Dude.”_ Komori sputters. “What the _hell.”_

Sakusa continues to stare at him with a deadpan expression, as if this wasn’t the most jarring thing to have ever come out of his cousin’s mouth. This was _not_ a conversation Komori thought they would ever be having.

“What?” Sakusa asks, looking genuinely confused and slightly displeased. “Is that… not a thing?”

“No, no, it’s…” Komori hesitates, “It’s _definitely_ a thing. I just… didn’t expect to get that image of you and him... in my head.”

Sakusa cringes. “Sorry.”

They’re quiet for even longer after that. 

Komori thinks about how terrified Sakusa looked that night he came out to him. That was probably the first and only time he’d ever even said it out loud. 

He also thinks about how that was the first and only time he’d ever seen his cousin cry. 

He looks at the Sakusa in front of him now, eating chicken breast so casually, as if he hadn’t just talked about wanting to have sex with Miya Atsumu. That was some growth. 

He figured it had a lot to do with the fact that this was gonna be the longest time so far in his life that he’ll be away from the watchful eyes of his family. 

Add the fact of who his roommate was gonna be for the next four days.

Komori couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to live your life knowing who you are and not being able to do anything about it. Komori wished he could’ve told him that night that, _you’ll be okay, you’ll be safe, be yourself, don’t be afraid_. 

But he couldn’t. He’d be lying.

He knew the world they lived in. He knew the type of person Sakusa Kiyoomi was.

He knew Sakusa Kiyoomi’s parents. 

The Miya Twins always had gay rumors. Being athletes, a lot of people saw it as hot gossip. Komori had been hearing about it for years, but never cared enough to go out of his way to find out if it was true. 

Honestly, Komori was pretty damn sure either twin would tell the truth if people would just ask instead of whisper behind their backs. Homophobia and toxic masculinity were pretty damn rampant in the sports scene, hence the trash talking, but no one seemed to have the actual guts to go up to them. 

They were probably too scared to face the truth.

The truth that either of them being gay didn’t change and would never change the fact that they were still and always will be, two of the greatest players in high school volleyball. 

Komori smiled to himself when he thought about the fact that Sakusa was on the same boat. The toxic straight men would lose their damn minds.

It was only after seeing the way Atsumu acted around his cousin (and also around that genius setter from Karasuno… Kageyama, was it? Atsumu talked to that guy like he wanted to eat him up, or something.) that he thought to himself, huh… 

_Maybe. Most likely, honestly._

If Sakusa was drawn to him, and Atsumu was drawn to him back, and if they were roommates, then…

Then, maybe...

“You can let yourself live a little, Sakusa.” Komori says, without raising his head to look at him. “Let yourself live… even if it’s just for a little while. Even if it’s just for now. It’s okay to just... feel it.”

He sees Sakusa’s fists clench against the table.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Komori continues, voice low and sincere. “Not a fucking soul.”

A promise.

“I just want you to be happy. _Somehow.”_

A few long seconds pass before Sakusa speaks. 

He takes pride in the fact that his voice is only _slightly_ shaky and his eyes are only _slightly_ watery when he says, “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Komori says. “I mean it.”

__

“Alright!” 

The ball flies towards Atsumu who in turn gets ready for a set and yells, “Omi-kun!”

Sakusa runs, jumps with his right arm in the air, and the ball seems to come flying directly into his palm, a snug fit, as he does what Atsumu had started calling his _Bendy Wrist Spike._

They win the set.

Sakusa turns to see Atsumu high fiving the others, Kageyama Tobio, Hoshiumi Kourai, even Komori, before turning to him.

Atsumu lowers his hands, settling them on his hips as he tilts his head at him. “Look at you, bein’ all cocky for gettin’ that winning spike.”

Sakusa’s eyes narrow at him. “I don’t know what you mean, Miya.”

“Hmmmmm,” Atsumu hums, walking to his side, gently nudging him with his elbow, “Y’know, Coach said a while ago that we work best together. I heard ‘im.” 

“Did he?” Sakusa asks, not exactly surprised. 

Best setter. Best ace. Of course, they work well together. They wouldn’t be the best if they couldn’t work well together.

“What d’ya think, Omi?” Atsumu presses, “Ya think we’re good together?”

When Sakusa turns his head to properly look at the boy next to him, they nearly bump noses. Sakusa hadn’t even realized how close Atsumu was standing.

He’s met with Atsumu’s wide eyes. 

His face looked like it used to have his signature cocky smirk on it before it was replaced with an expression of what Sakusa could only describe to be horny panic. 

He could only fucking _hope_ he didn’t have the exact same expression on his face.

It’s only when his eyes start drifting down to Atsumu’s lips that Sakusa realizes where exactly they are and how many people are standing around them. 

He coughs awkwardly and with much difficulty, manages to look away.

Atsumu is still staring at him.

He takes a step away and heads for the benches, bending down to reach his water bottle. “Stop staring at me.”

“Y’like it when I stare at ya?” Atsumu teases, stubbornly skipping towards him, plopping himself down on the bench, tilting his head to look Sakusa in the eye again.

Sakusa merely turns away, turning his attention to his suddenly very interesting gym bag. “I’m asking you to stop because I _don’t_ like it.”

Atsumu remains unfazed. 

“Nah,” He says, leaning back on his arms, “Yer askin’ me to stop ‘cause ya like it a little _too_ much.”

“You’re full of yourself.” Sakusa glares.

“I know the way people stare at me when they want me,” Atsumu retorts, leaning forward again before Sakusa can begin to look away, “And you stare at me an awful lot.”

Sakusa’s grip around his face towel tightens. “How would you know that? Pay attention to me that much?”

Atsumu doesn’t even flinch. 

“Because I stare at ya an awful lot too,” He says, leaning even closer as if he were about to kiss him, before swerving to speak directly into his ear, _“Omi-kun.”_

He walks away after that, casually, as if he hadn’t just sent Sakusa’s world spinning out of control. He hears him call for Hoshiumi to practice some quicks.

Sakusa can only let himself sink into the bench, supporting himself with one hand, feeling his knees shake slightly. Jesus.

_Jesus._

He starts looking around in a panic, wondering if anyone fucking saw that, because he knew that if they did see it, they would know. 

They would _know._

Sakusa wonders if anyone could have seen that and not put two and two together.

He scans the room and searches for an expression that would hint that the world suddenly knew that he was gay. He doesn’t find anything. 

He tries to steady his breathing. 

Nobody knows. They didn’t see. They couldn’t tell. It’s okay. He’s okay. Only Komori knows. And Atsumu.

Atsumu.

 _Fuck,_ Atsumu. If he didn’t know then, he knew now, didn’t he? Fuck. 

He feels himself starting to spiral. He’s spiraling. He can’t spiral. They have a few hours left.

In and out. In and out. In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be fine.

__

The room is completely dark save for a sliver of moonlight that made its way in through the curtains and the small but bright light coming from Atsumu’s phone. 

Sakusa breathes deeply, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, going back and forth between going to bed or… saying something.

The wood of their shared bunk bed creaks as Atsumu changes positions, heaving out a tired sigh as the light from the bottom bunk disappears. 

It’s now or never. 

Sakusa takes a deep breath. “Miya.”

Atsumu doesn’t answer right away. There’s a silence that lasts a few seconds longer than Sakusa deemed comfortable, until Atsumu clears his throat. 

“What’s up, Omi? Havin’ trouble sleepin’?”

“I have to ask you something.” Sakusa says, controlling the shake in his voice, trying not to reveal the fact that he’s nervous for a reason he can’t even pinpoint. “You can choose not to answer if you don’t want to.”

Atsumu hums. “Yer bein’ weirdly polite… how ominous.” Sakusa hears the wood creak again as Atsumu probably sits up. “Alright. What’s yer question?”

Sakusa licks his lips, closes his eyes, and thinks, _fuck it._

“Are you gay?”

Sakusa knows that if it were him being asked that same question, he’d probably spiral. He’d probably throw up. There would probably be a Sakusa Kiyoomi shaped hole in the door right about now. He expects a reaction of that dramatic degree as he waits for Atsumu to answer.

Instead, he hears a faint chuckle. 

“Really thought ya woulda realized it by now.” Atsumu answers, “Yeah, I am. But I’m not exactly gay, I’m bisexual.”

_Oh._

“Oh.” Sakusa manages to let out, “That was… easy.”

Atsumu properly laughs this time. “What, ya thought you’d hafta wrestle the answer outta me?” 

“I guess.” Sakusa says, honestly. “People talk a lot, you know. About you and your brother. I just assumed people talked ‘cause they’d never gotten a direct answer.”

“Y’know, Omi,” Atsumu muses, “Yer the very first one who’s had the guts to just ask me. If any one of ‘em did, I woulda answered ‘em the exact same way I did just now. I ain’t ashamed of who I am and I don’t make a big deal out of it. Neither does Samu. Everyone else is makin’ a mountain out of a molehill.”

Miya Atsumu. The first openly gay kid that Sakusa Kiyoomi ever meets. _Confident_ and openly gay, at that. 

He still didn’t like him. He still thought he was a cocky bastard. He still hated his guts. But now, he guesses he admired those guts too. 

If anything, he was at least proof that maybe one day, Sakusa could be in a place in his life where he could be the same. 

Confident. Completely himself, unapologetically. _Out_.

“How’d you know?” Sakusa asks.

“Ah, so this is storytime now, huh?” Atsumu shoots back, amused.

“Just fucking answer me.” He huffs, pulling his blankets up higher, tucking them under his chin. 

“I fuckin’ watched porn with Samu when I was eight.” Atsumu answers, a laugh in his voice. “That’s how I fuckin’ knew.”

Sakusa can’t help the laugh he lets out at that, too. “That’s anti-climactic. I was hoping for a more dramatic story than that.”

“Sorry to disappoint ya, Omi-kun.” Atsumu sighs, sounding nostalgic. “But that’s really where it started for me, ya know? After that… figurin’ myself out came easier. I always liked lookin’ at both. Guys a little more than girls, but I knew it was both. Ya get me, right?”

“I do.”

It’s quiet after that and Sakusa starts to feel tense. He clutches onto his sheets. 

It’s usually around this time that the other would get curious and start asking questions back, right? Something like, _hey, why are you asking? Hey, is there a reason you’re asking for my life story past midnight? Hey… are you gay too?_

Atsumu almost does. He almost asks. But he remembers what it was like to be ten years old, knowing the way he felt, but still being a little too scared to say it out loud, not knowing what words he was supposed to use. He remembers what it was like to stare at a boy in his class, thinking he was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and deciding not to tell him. He remembers a girl in his class who liked him and who he liked back, but nothing had ever happened because rumors spread that he liked boys too and that ruined everything.

He remembers what it was like to be scared. He remembers what it was like when he didn’t dare to say it out loud himself. Hearing other people say it for him made it worse. 

So, he doesn’t ask. 

Instead, he shares what he thinks his little self would’ve wanted to hear. He gives Sakusa Kiyoomi something that he never really got for himself back then.

“Hey,” He starts, “Wanna hear ‘bout when Samu and I came out to our parents and it turned out they knew all along and even bet on when we’d just go ahead and tell ‘em? Dad got a new fuckin’ office chair out of it.”

Sakusa lets out what Atsumu assumes is a breath of relief. And then, after a moment, he chuckles. 

“Tell me.” He says, his voice almost a whisper, “Tell me whatever the hell you want, Miya.”

So Atsumu just keeps talking. About his parents, about his first few crushes, about the funniest coming out stories he could think of, about meeting other people who were just like them, about Osamu and Suna’s awkward first kiss and how he’d walked in on them in the middle of it and said, _“Niiiiiiiice_.” 

The last thing Sakusa hears before he drifts off to sleep is Atsumu going off about how guys should be able to wear lip gloss without being given shit for it. The last thing he feels is gratitude.

__

“Ya worked hard today.” Atsumu comments as they drag their tired bodies into their room on the third night, slamming the door close behind them. “Yer body still gonna make it another two?”

“It fucking better.” Sakusa grumbles, pulling his mask down and setting his bag on the floor. “If it doesn’t, I’ll _make_ it.”

Atsumu snorts. “Yer kinda terrifying, Omi-Omi.”

“Don’t call me that as if everybody else doesn’t call you the same thing.” Sakusa retorts, taking hold of the bottom of his jersey and pulling it over his head. 

Atsumu turns away in a panic, pointedly staring at the wall.

“I’m gonna go for the hot bath before everyone else contaminates it with their germs.” Sakusa says, throwing a towel over his shoulder. 

“Y-yeah. Sure.” Atsumu manages to choke out.

He makes sure to wait for the door to open and then close, before he shuts his eyes and lets out the breath he’s been holding in. 

He sinks down to his bed, burying his face in his hands.

“AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

  
  


He’s still in that same position by the time Sakusa returns and regards him with a confused look. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Miya?”

“Everything.” He answers, before reaching for his bath essentials, and heading out the door without even sparing the boy clad in nothing but a towel a glance, lest he embarrass himself by setting some sort of world record for getting hard in the shortest amount of time. “My turn.”

As Atsumu sits in the bath that’s so hot he thinks he’s gonna come out of it cooked, he thinks again, _was there even the slightest possibility that Sakusa Kiyoomi could be gay?_

Because while his gaydar was pinging at a steady 70% now, maybe even more, when it came down to it, it’s really still a 0% unless confirmed by the person in question. 

He groans again. 

Will Atsumu survive this? Stay tuned.

He steels himself as he steps out of the bath, mentally preparing himself to return to his shared room with a... volleyball playing Greek God. 

He’s met with the view of said Greek God in his pajamas, sitting on the bottom bunk, _his_ bunk, rubbing at his wrists. Sakusa looks up at him, eyes widening at the sight of his wet upper half, and then whips his head back down, ears turning red.

(80%?)

He’s flustered. Atsumu takes some pride in that. 

He puts on a little of a show when he pushes his hair back, before bending down to reach for his shirt and boxers.

“Yer wrists alright?” He asks, noticing the way the boy was still pressing on them gently.

Sakusa hums, still pointedly ignoring the view. “They get sore easily. I’ve been working them too hard.”

Once Atsumu is decent, Sakusa raises his head. 

“Ya ain’t injured, are ya?” Atsumu asks, slightly concerned. “Can’t have that.”

Sakusa shakes his head. “They’re fine.”

Atsumu ruffles his hair one last time before making his way to Sakusa, casually sitting on his bed like he belonged there. 

He takes a seat next to him, keeping a reasonable distance. 

“Want me to rub ‘em for you?”

Sakusa pauses in his ministrations. Actually, a more accurate description is that he seems to… _shut down_ Microsoft Windows style for a whole second. 

“Uh,” Sakusa starts, one hand clenching into a fist, “You don’t need to do that.”

He’s flustered again. 

Atsumu wonders how far he should push this, how far he _can_ push this before it gets too much. 

“Ya sure? I do it for Samu all the time.”

Sakusa’s mind runs on overdrive with only two thoughts going back and forth, fighting against each other. 

First, _holy shit._ Second, _you can’t._

But then a third voice pops up in his head, a familiar one, sounding suspiciously like his cousin, saying, _let yourself feel it._

Let himself feel it, huh.

“Fine.” Sakusa says, slightly moving one of his arms towards Atsumu. “Just for a bit.”

Atsumu beams.

The second he puts his hands on him, there’s static. 

No, really.

There’s static.

“Fuckin’ ow.” Atsumu hisses, tearing his hands away for a moment. “See that, Omi? Maybe coach was right about us bein’ good together. We got a spark, see?”

“I’m really gonna kill you one of these days.” Sakusa deadpans. “Get on with it before I do.”

Atsumu’s smile is both arrogant but also fond when he reaches for Sakusa’s wrist again. How that’s even possible, he doesn’t know. 

Atsumu presses fingers against his palm, his wrist, a little up his arm, and then down again. Sakusa finds himself leaning against the wall, allowing his eyes to close for a little while.

He hears Atsumu chuckle softly. “Yer likin’ this, huh?”

“Keep talking and the moment’s over, Miya.”

“My lips are sealed, good sir.” Atsumu says playfully, continuing his massage. 

Sakusa can’t really help it when he breathes out a sated sigh. 

He thinks about the night before. He thinks about how easy it’d be for Atsumu to tell people about him, how easy it’d be for him to start gossip the way everyone else had about Atsumu, how easy it’d be to start rumors about Sakusa Kiyoomi’s sexuality. 

He thinks about how he knows he wouldn’t. He thinks about how Atsumu, for some reason, knew what not to ask, what Sakusa needed to hear in that moment. He thinks about falling asleep to the sound of the same Kansai dialect that used to star in his jerk off fantasies last year. He thinks about gratitude. He thinks about the fact that he’s sitting next to a boy who he barely knows but at the same time, understands deeply.

That’s just how it is for people like them.

It’s when Atsumu reaches for his other wrist that Sakusa decides to say something.

“For last night,” He starts, making Atsumu pause, “I wanted to say thanks.”

His eyes remain closed but for some reason, he can hear Atsumu’s smile. He doesn’t know what to make of that. 

“Ya startin’ to like me, Omi-Omi?” He teases.

Sakusa hesitates, wonders if he should play along with Atsumu’s annoying flirtatiousness, but decides against it. He thinks, _let yourself feel it._ He thinks, _just this once._

“Still can’t fucking stand you, actually.” He gripes, which earns him a laugh, “But… you’re alright, I guess. Sometimes.”

Atsumu’s hands stop moving completely and there’s a meaningful silence that surrounds their room and Sakusa thinks, _now I’ve done it._

When he opens his eyes, Atsumu is looking at him with an expression he doesn’t recognize. He looks at him like no one’s ever looked at him before. 

And Sakusa thinks to himself, what would it take, how much does he have to give, for Atsumu to keep looking at him like that for the rest of his life?

He doesn’t realize that Atsumu had been moving in closer until he feels his breath against his lips. Sakusa doesn’t realize he has a hand on Atsumu’s thigh until he subconsciously squeezes it and he tenses. 

He stares into brown eyes and brown eyes stare back at him, so clear, rid of that faux arrogance he always had in them. 

Instead, Sakusa sees something that almost resembled… fear. 

It’s that look in his eyes that snaps Sakusa back to reality. It’s his own heartbeat in his ears that takes him back to sitting in the living room, looking at the headshot of an 18 year old boy whose life was taken by his sexuality. It’s the ghost of a touch against his lips that takes him all those years back, sitting in a classroom, _gay people go to hell._

“Fuck.” He gasps, instantly pulling away, as if he’d been burnt. 

He stumbles out of the bed, eyes wide and panicked, the back of his hand pressed against his mouth. “Fuck, I… _shit_ , I’m sorry.”

“No, Omi, it’s…” Atsumu starts, looking just as disoriented, refusing to meet Sakusa’s eyes, “I’m… m’sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Yeah, no, that wasn’t,” Sakusa stutters, running a hand through his hair, “That wasn’t… I mean, _I’m_ not like tha-”

“I got it.” Atsumu says, cutting him off. And he has another expression on his face that Sakusa’s never seen on him before. 

Shame.

A few minutes later, they find themselves lying in their respective beds with all the lights shut off. All that’s left is the sliver of moonlight that makes its way past the curtains. 

It’s quiet as Sakusa pretends to be in deep sleep, as if his heart wasn’t still trying to beat its way out of his chest. And it’s a few moments later that he hears a sad voice coming from the bunk below him.

“Hey, Omi?” Atsumu calls out, and without waiting for a response, continues. “I’m sorry about a while ago. I got… carried away, y’know? M’sorry I pushed you to do somethin’ ya didn’t want…” He pauses, “... or weren’t ready for.”

Sakusa squeezes his eyes shut.

“I won’t do it again.”

He learns that very night, that when you want something so _badly_ that it scares the shit out of you, it tends to translate as dislike to other people. 

He doesn’t get any sleep that night. 

He pretends, though. He wonders if Atsumu was pretending too. 

__

The next day is tense. 

It’s tense and it’s weird and it’s so awkward that it’s almost painful. It would’ve been easier to get through if the terrible mood only stayed between the two of them, but as if they couldn’t help it, it had spread to everyone else in their immediate surroundings.

Atsumu has resorted to speaking to him only when it’s volleyball related. Otherwise, he spends most of the day sticking close to Kageyama, who just looked confused about the whole thing. At one point, Sakusa thinks he hears the two talking about being a _‘goody two-shoes’_ whatever that meant. He didn’t even wanna know. 

The day stretches on like that. Uncomfortable.

Kageyama cringes at a missed spike by Sakusa that was set by Atsumu, Hoshiumi gives Atsumu shit for being so off when he’d been doing fucking perfectly the past few days, and Komori starts giving them concerned looks.

Sakusa waves his cousin off, mouthing, _none of your damn business._

But then, a thought crosses his mind. 

Was it written all over his face? Did they _all_ know? Can they tell what happened last night? 

It’s that thought that leads him into a bathroom stall, after leaving with nothing but a hurried _‘just a minute’_ directed towards their coach. 

He feels himself spiraling. The walls start closing in, his chest gets tighter, his hands go numb, and he clenches and unclenches them, struggling to get the feeling back.

He focuses on his breathing.

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’s going to be _fine._

After he manages to gather himself and walk out of the bathroom, the first sight he’s greeted with is Atsumu sitting on the ground with his legs spread completely open, as Hoshiumi dug a knee into his back pushing him forward, helping him stretch.

Atsumu winces, groaning a little. “Yeah, that’s good… can you do it a little harder-” 

Sakusa walks right back into the bathroom. He wants to fucking die.

__

Atsumu’s night had already been planned out since he woke up in the morning. 

After practice was over, he’d eat dinner, take a shower, jerk off, do his skincare routine, and then he’d vent to his twin.

He stares at the closed door. Sakusa normally took much longer than him both when it came to eating and soaking in the bath, and he just assumed he’s gonna take even longer this time to avoid him. 

Atsumu sighs. 

He adjusts the towel around his waist and picks up his phone.

It rings twice before Osamu answers. 

“Ew.” 

“Don’t fuckin’ ew me, ya scrub.” Atsumu hisses. “I’m losin’ my fuckin’ mind here and ya ain’t even here to suffer with me.”

“Is this just you bein’ yer dramatic self or are ya actually sufferin’ out there?” Osamu asks, mouth full of what Atsumu assumes to be onigiri.

“Are ya eatin’ onigiri?”

Osamu pauses. “How the fuck did ya know that?”

“Dunno if it’s a twin thing or if yer just that predictable.” Atsumu shrugs, even knowing Osamu won’t see him. “But I _am_ sufferin’. I fuckin’ hate yer ass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Osamu says tiredly, taking another bite, “Did ya have anything else to tell me or are ya just gonna be annoying the whole time? ‘Cause I’ll hang up.”

Atsumu pauses. “Samu?”

“Hm?”

He sighs, resting his head against the wall, “Ya shoulda been here. They woulda let us room together.”

“Ah,” Osamu snorts, “It’s about yer roomie. What happened with you and yer… Omi-kun, was it?”

“We almost kissed last night.”

Atsumu hears what sounds like a spit take. “The fu- you almost _what?”_

“Kissed, god damn it!” Atsumu repeats, “I dunno, one second I was massagin’ his freakishly bendy wrists and the next we were ‘boutta… do it.”

“Tsumu, fer the love o’ I don’t even know, don’t tell me ya just sprung one on him.” Osamu says in a hurry, “Ya gotta make sure they want it too if yer gonna put yer mouth on ‘em.”

“Okay, Mr. Kissing Expert, just ‘cause shit worked out with you and yer dumb boyfriend.” Atsumu huffs. “I _did,_ I mean, I… I thought… look, he was the one who said it was alright if I rubbed his wrists, alright? And when I leaned in, he fuckin’ put his hand on my thigh and did the same, what was I s’posed to think?”

“Okay, so,” Osamu clarifies, “so _that_ happened and ya almost kissed… why almost? Did ya get interrupted or somethin’?”

“Or somethin’.” Atsumu says, walking across the room to flop down on his bed, stretching his legs out. “He suddenly freaked out on me. I don’t think he’s… I dunno, I mean, I _thought_ he was gay, I kinda felt it and y’know how accurate my gaydar is, but…”

Osamu hums, thinking. “Was he _not?”_

“I dunno, Samu.” Atsumu groans. “I dunno. Maybe he isn’t or maybe he’s just still goin’ through it, y’know? Figurin’ shit out. I mean, we’ve all been there.”

It’s quiet on the other end for a few seconds. Atsumu doesn’t really care. Sometimes, just having his twin on the other line was comforting.

“Ya feelin’ alright?” Osamu asks, carefully. “He wasn’t a dick about it, was he? Need me to go over there ‘n punch him for ya?”

He loved Osamu, sometimes. 

“It killed me a little inside, but it wasn’t really his fault, y’know?” Atsumu says, “Ya don’t needa punch no one.”

“If ya say so, Tsumu.” Osamu seems to think about it for a little before continuing with, “Don’t beat yerself up over it, alright? I don’t think ya did anything wrong… maybe talk to him about it, though.”

Atsumu merely hums.

“And be careful, hear me? Don’t hurt yerself.” He says, “... or him, if he’s still, y’know, figurin’ his shit out. It’s not a great place to be, not knowin’ yerself. That takes some time.”

“Mm.”

_“Tsumu.”_

“I fuckin’ got it.” Atsumu grumbles, “Don’t start naggin’.”

He hears his brother sigh on the other end of the line. “D’ya like him?”

“I mean, I fuckin’ tried to kiss him, didn’t I?” Atsumu retorts.

“No, ya dipshit, I mean do you fuckin’ _like_ him? I mean, beyond wantin' to make out or touch his dick, d’ya wanna hold his hand, feed him fuckin’ soup, and go on shitty dates with him?”

“Ya mean do I wanna be gross with him like you and Sunarin?” Atsumu clarifies, bitterly. “We don’t all get to end up bein’ cute with our crushes at the end, Samu. Sunarin’s been smitten with you since freshman year and Omi fuckin’ hates my guts half the time.”

“Not much we can do about that ‘cause everyone hates yer guts.” 

_“Saaaaaamuuuuuu,”_ Atsumu whines, “Can’t ya just tell me, _hey, yer the best, someone’ll come around and love ya,_ like you know I need to hear right now?” 

“Get yer shit together.” Osamu says with a tone of finality. “And put some fuckin’ clothes on before calling me.”

Atsumu looks down at himself. “How the fuck did ya know that?”

“Twin thing?” He answers, “Or maybe yer just that predictable. G’night, dipshit.”

“Wait, Samu but what do I do about my stupid fuckin’ crush on Omi-”

At that moment, three things happen. 

The first thing, Osamu hangs up before he can finish his sentence, the god damn waste of sperm.

The second thing is that he stands up, drops his phone, and his towel unwraps so he has to keep it up with one hand to cover at least his front half.

The third thing is that just as he says _‘stupid fuckin’ crush on Omi’_ the door opens and in comes the subject in question, similar to him, clad in nothing but a towel.

There’s a momentous silence that follows as the product of those three things. 

And then it is cut off by Sakusa clenching his fists, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and walking big, angry steps forward, until he’s standing right in front of Atsumu.

Atsumu’s grip on his towel _hurts._

He stares at Sakusa who’s looking at him with the most intense grimace he’s ever seen in his life, as if he was in actual pain. 

Atsumu can relate. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” Sakusa says, voice so low it’s a whisper. He’s shaking. “I _can’t.”_

_Big mood._

“You can’t what?”

“Atsumu.”

He sucks in a shocked breath. It’s the first time he’s ever called him by his actual name.

“Yeah?” Atsumu breathes out, “What is it, Omi?”

“I’m gay.” 

(100%.)

This time, it’s Sakusa who closes the distance. There’s nothing romantic about it. It isn’t gentle or slow. He grabs Atsumu by the back of his neck with one hand, uses the other to grip his waist, and presses their lips together. 

It’s so sudden that Atsumu almost yells and there’s too much teeth and it hurts and his lips might be bleeding a bit, but _god, holy shit._

It’s rough and unpracticed and Atsumu can tell Sakusa hasn't had much practice before, so he raises his free hand to caress the side of his face, making him relax, ease out, until they’re just… _kissing._

Atsumu can’t help the smile that makes its way to his lips.

When he opens his mouth a little wider, Sakusa follows his lead, and Atsumu pokes his tongue out a little to see how the other would respond. 

He’s rewarded with a soft moan. 

Atsumu’s one hand is still holding onto his towel and he has two options. 

One, stop kissing this beautiful boy and tell him he has to fix his towel or else he’ll be standing buck naked. Or two, just… _drop it._

But then, dropping it would mean being naked and revealing his rock hard dick and he doesn’t know how far they were gonna take this, even if they’re literally almost completely naked. I mean, he kinda _wants_ to but what if Sakusa didn’t-

“Atsumu.” Sakusa says a little angrily against his lips, “I’m literally leaving all my fucking thoughts out the door right now. _All_ of them. You better not be stuck in your head right now.”

Oh.

“Right.” Atsumu says, pressing against him, running his hand through Sakusa’s hair, “Right. I won’t.”

Sakusa rests his hand on the small of Atsumu’s back, steps forward, leads them closer to the bed, until Atsumu’s head bumps into the top bunk. 

“Ow.”

Sakusa pulls away a little and Atsumu stares at the spit string between them and then at the boy in front of him and _fuck,_ he looks _wrecked._ His hair’s a wet mess, his cheeks are beet red, his eyes are hooded. 

He watches Sakusa’s gaze go from his face, to his neck, to his chest, and then…

He feels Sakusa’s hands travel down to the sides of his hips and he squeezes. Atsumu reflexively bucks forward, and bites back a groan.

They both stare down at each other’s towels. 

Atsumu’s running solely on his last shred of self control. He takes a deep, calming breath. 

“Omi.” He says, trying to contain the desperation in his voice. “I only want this if you want this.”

Sakusa only fights with himself for a second. Somehow, the ugly voices that always pop up in his head during moments like these, are drowned out completely by the sound of their heavy breathing. 

With all the courage and horniness of a sixteen year old boy, Sakusa puts his hand over Atsumu’s clenched fist that held onto his towel. 

“Atsumu, I’ll be really fucking honest with you right now,” Sakusa starts, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so badly in my life.”

And there goes Atsumu’s last shred of self-control. Out the window. Out of town. Taking a damn flight to Mexico.

He tosses his towel to the side, using his now free hand to run through Sakusa’s blessed curls, before clenching them in his fist, gripping onto his hair, and pulling.

The sound Sakusa makes almost makes him come right then and there.

“Jesus _fuck,_ Omi,” Atsumu whines, ducking his head to press his lips against his neck, thrusting his hips forward, making it rub against Sakusa’s towel, “Touch me, _god,_ please, please, put your hand on my dick.”

“Yeah.” Sakusa breathes out, tilting his head to give Atsumu more access, “Yeah, I’m getting to that, just… keep doing that with your mouth.”

“Mmmm,” Atsumu says, biting into his skin lightly while also making sure not to leave marks, “Get that towel off you.”

“Just so you know,” Sakusa says, hands reaching down to grasp at Atsumu’s ass cheeks. He squeezes them and Atsumu’s knees nearly fucking buckle. He lets out a soft _fuck, omi,_ “I’ve never… done this before. Never touched anyone’s dick… apart from my own.”

“That’s fine, same,” Atsumu manages to answer, already slightly delirious, “Can we sit the fuck down? I’m… I’m losin’ it.”

Atsumu pulls them both down into the bottom bunk, ripping Sakusa’s towel off him in the process and it’s the first time they both actually get a good look at each other.

“Holy shit.”

“Motherfucker.”

“You’re big.” They say in complete unison. 

Sakusa’s eyes lock onto his cock making Atsumu squirm at the attention, but he pushes the embarrassment down and smiles.

“Guess I was onto somethin’ when I said we should get the feel of both, huh?” He asks against Sakusa’s mouth, “Usin’ just one of these would be wastin’ resources, Omi, don’t ya think?”

Sakusa manages a laugh. “Fuck you, you’re so full of—“

“You, hopefully, in a few minutes.” Atsumu retorts, pressing their lips together again, successfully shutting Sakusa up.

They navigate their way to a horizontal position, Sakusa looming over him and pressing their crotches together. He grinds forward and they groan in unison.

“Are these walls soundproof?” Sakusa asks hurriedly, suddenly worried about how much noise they were making.

“Dunno.” Atsumu answers, pushing Sakusa’s head down to his neck, “I’ll be quiet, I promise, just… touch me.”

“Okay. Well, first we— _shit.”_ Sakusa swears heartily, pressing his forehead against Atsumu’s shoulder. “Shit, we can’t.”

“What?” Atsumu squeaks, his dick twitching. “But.. I mean, it’s fine if you don’t wanna, I’ll.. I can take another shower—“

“No, you idiot.” Sakusa grunts. “Do you have any condoms and lube in your luggage ‘cause I sure don’t.”

Ah.

 _“Shit.”_ Atsumu swears, throwing his head back onto his pillow. “Okay, so.. so we can’t have sex. No anal penetration. Whatever. Fine. But, we can do other stuff… right?”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows. “What are you proposing?”

 _“Anything.”_ Atsumu whines, jerking his hips forward suggestively, earning a hiss from Sakusa. “Fuck, _anything_ , I’m fuckin’ dying here. Yer still hard, aren’t ya? How do you wanna come? With my hand? My _mouth?”_

_“Fuck.”_

Sakusa’s swearing a lot tonight. He thinks he’s going to have the imaginary image of Atsumu’s mouth around his dick stored in his memory to bring out for future jerk-off sessions but tonight, because he has no experience, because he doesn’t wanna be one-upped by him, he reaches for Atsumu’s hand and pushes it between them, “Stroke me.”

“With pleasure.” Atsumu says, cheeky even with a hand wrapped around Sakusa’s dick. “Touch me, please. Touch me _now.”_

Sakusa rolls off of him, choosing to lay next to him. They adjust their positions, lying on their sides, facing each other. 

Sakusa breathes heavily as Atsumu’s hand picks up its pace as he reaches down to wrap his own around Atsumu’s.

 _“Fuck yes,”_ Atsumu gasps, involuntarily jerking forward, _“Kiyoomi.”_

_Oh, hell._

The hand around his cock is tight and fast, exactly the way he likes it, and he doesn’t know why the fuck Atsumu seems to know that. He knows very well that if he doesn’t let up with this speed, he’s not gonna last very long. 

It’s the first time anyone other than himself was touching his dick. Sue him.

He chokes on a moan, squeezing his eyes shut, as Atsumu presses their foreheads together. 

“You look so fuckin’ good, holy shit.”

Sakusa almost wants to hit him for that but he opens his eyes and is met with what will probably be a visual that will stay in his core memory forever. 

Atsumu’s looking at him with an insatiable hunger, he’s sweating, mouth half open and drooling right onto the pillow, puffing hot breaths against Sakusa’s face. 

“Atsumu, _god,_ ease up,” He groans, “If you keep going, I’m gonna—“

Sakusa knows his own hand is getting sloppy but Atsumu doesn’t seem to care as long as he’s getting touched.

“It’s okay.” Atsumu breathes out, “It’s okay. Just let me. Just _let go.”_

So, as if he’d flipped a switch in him, Sakusa _does._

He moans without restraint, pushing his hips forward, thrusting into Atsumu’s hand.

He lets go of his cock in favor of holding onto Atsumu’s forearm to ground himself as his vision starts to get spotty.

Atsumu keeps stroking, his other hand pulling on Sakusa’s hair as he nips at his collarbones. 

“Just like that,” He says, voice and eyebrows pinched, eyes squeezed closed, “Atsumu, just like that, don’t stop, I’m close—“

“This is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” Atsumu says as if he’s in wonder, but obediently following directions.

“Shut _up, god—“_ Sakusa’s back arches, as he pushes Atsumu’s head to his neck, “Atsumu, please, I’m gonna fucking—“

Atsumu presses his lips against the shell of his ear. “Come for me.”

 _“Fuck.”_ He comes, muffling swear words into Atsumu’s hair, making a mess of both their stomachs and Atsumu’s fist. 

He keeps stroking as Sakusa rides out his orgasm as long as he can, until he starts flinching away from the touch.

Atsumu raises his sticky hand and stares at it. “Woah.”

Sakusa catches his breath, eyes closed, his grip on Atsumu’s hair loosening. 

“I can’t see what you’re looking at but I can take a guess and it’s disgusting so stop that.”

“Holy fuck, Omi,” Atsumu says, pressing a kiss against Sakusa’s temple, “Yer the most gorgeous fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up.”

There’s a meaningful silence as Atsumu waits for him to come back to Earth. And then,

“Omi.”

“What?”

“I’m still really fuckin’ hard.” Atsumu says. “Can you sit up?”

Sakusa blinks his eyes open and stares down at Atsumu’s leaking dick. 

_Right. Shit._ If he didn’t just have the best orgasm of his life, he’d be fully hard again just looking at it.

He hesitantly sits up, groaning as he does, his entire body feeling like jelly. “How do you wanna do this?”

“Open yer legs a little.”

 _Oh._ Sakusa likes where this is going. He opens his legs slightly, giving enough space for Atsumu to crawl between them. He sighs contentedly as the boy leans against him, the warmth of his back pressed against his chest, his head resting on his shoulder.

“Can you fold yer legs a bit? Get yer knees up.” 

Sakusa does what he’s told, pressing the bottom of his feet on the bed.

“Nice.” Atsumu says, raising both his legs and opening them as wide as the space allowed, using Sakusa’s legs to hold them in place, the back of his thighs pressed against Sakusa’s knees.

He reaches for Sakusa’s hand which had unknowingly made its way to Atsumu’s stomach and pulls it towards his cock. He looks up at him with hooded eyes and whispers, “Make me feel good, Omi.”

This looked like something out of Sakusa’s dirtiest fantasies. He lets out an unstable breath and nips at Atsumu’s earlobe as he starts stroking.

Atsumu’s eyes roll back, his head lolling to the side.

“ _Tighter.”_ He gasps, after a few seconds.

“Your wish is my command.” Sakusa says in a low, playful voice, thinking, _he’s rubbing off on me now, huh._

Atsumu moans, one hand coming up to hold onto the back of Sakusa’s neck. _“Faster.”_

Sakusa does what he’s asked and is rewarded with a high pitched keen. 

“Hey, Omi,” Atsumu pants, head thrown back against his shoulder. “D’ya mind if I finger myself while you jerk me off? I’ve been.. _shit,_ close for a while now.”

Sakusa’s breath catches in his throat. “Fuck. Has anyone ever said no to that?”

Atsumu probably would’ve laughed at that if he wasn’t about to explode. “Okay. Ease up a little for now.” 

He hurriedly sticks two shaky fingers in his mouth, licking, sucking and making a show of it, pointedly looking at Sakusa with half-lidded eyes.

Sakusa groans, pressing his forehead against Atsumu. “Dear fucking _God_.”

Atsumu reaches down once his two digits are thoroughly soaked in spit, slowly sticking them in at the same time, and groans loudly.

Sakusa can’t help but wince. “Doesn’t it hurt?” 

Atsumu shakes his head. “I did it in the shower a while ago for a bit. Hurry and stroke my fuckin’ dick.” 

Oh, Sakusa is saving _that_ image for later.

He strokes Atsumu’s cock in earnest, tight and fast, as he watches him fuck himself onto his fingers. The noises that spill out of his mouth are downright sinful.

Sakusa marvels at the sight and the feeling, Atsumu’s sweaty thighs wide open and pressed against his own, his hard leaking cock in his hand, his body nearly folded in half as he pumped his fingers in and out of himself.

Atsumu’s head is thrown back in bliss, drool dribbling down the side of his mouth, eyebrows pinched.

“Omi,” Atsumu says urgently, his grip on the back of Sakusa’s neck suddenly going up to his hair and pulling _hard,_ “Omi, fer the love o’ _god, faster_ , I’m so fuckin’ close—“

He starts fucking himself harder, face contorting into an expression that one can only really make when they’re about to come. Sakusa watches in wonder as he picks up the pace of his hand.

“Oh _god,”_ Atsumu cries, back arching, hand in Sakusa’s hair going impossibly tight, “ _Fuck, baby,_ you’re gonna make me come so fucking _hard—“_

_(Baby.)_

The noise that leaves his mouth does not sound human. It’s like a mix of a high pitched moan and a strangled yell and if Sakusa were in his right fucking mind, he’d be worrying about whether the neighboring rooms could hear them because if they could, it sounded like someone was getting murdered.

But all he can focus on is the way Atsumu looks as ropes of come shoot out of him, painting his hand, his torso, his neck, as Atsumu writhed, toes curling in the air, moaned variations of _fuck_ ’s and _Omi, god, shit, don’t stop,_ tumbling out of his mouth.

It feels like a lifetime before Atsumu comes down from his high, his body sinking back against his own, dick going completely soft in Sakusa’s fist, and the fingers inside him slowing until they still to a complete stop.

It feels like both seconds and hours before Atsumu finally opens his eyes, breathes out a weak laugh and says, “Holy shit. I’ve never come so hard in my life. Yer wrists sure come in handy for stuff like that, huh?”

Sakusa will say later on that he couldn’t help himself, that anyone who would’ve seen him at that moment wouldn’t be able to help themselves, when he tilts Atsumu’s face up, and presses their lips together.

It’s a gentle kiss, nothing but a peck, but out of everything they’d done that night, that leaves them the most breathless.

Atsumu stares at him as he pulls away. 

He raises a hand, caresses Sakusa’s cheek, watches in awe as he leans into his touch.

“Tonight,” Atsumu says, voice a little hoarse from usage, “Is it alright if I ask you to sleep next to me?” 

Sakusa swallows. He nods.

“Let’s clean up first, though.”

As they lay in bed that night, Sakusa’s arm thrown over Atsumu’s waist, the boy’s face buried in his neck, a question lingers in the air.

Atsumu slithers an arm around Sakusa, pulling him closer. 

“Yer a different you tonight.” He whispers. “Are you gonna disappear in the morning?”

Sakusa’s hold on him tightens, but he doesn’t answer.

Atsumu’s voice sounds sad as he closes his eyes, says, “G’night and goodbye, my Omi-Omi.”

  
  


When Atsumu wakes up in the morning to an empty bed and a lack of duffel bags, he isn’t surprised. When the last thing he sees of Sakusa Kiyoomi is the back of his head as he walks out the glass doors, he isn’t surprised, either. 

He does the only thing he’s ever done at times like these. Once he’s safely sitting on a bench in the station, he calls Osamu.

He picks up after the first ring. 

“Ew.”

A long silence.

“Tsumu? Ya there?”

A sniff.

“Hey.” Osamu sounds concerned now, “Tsumu? Where the fuck are you? Should I pick you up? Are ya hurt?”

“Samu,” Atsumu’s voice breaks, “Can ya meet me at the station when I get there? I feel like fuckin’ garbage.”

“‘Course I can.” Osamu says and doesn’t ask, just assures. Atsumu loves him a lot at the moment. “I’ll be there.”

“Stay on the phone with me.”

“Okay.”

“Samu?”

“I’m here, ya scrub.”

“Okay.”

—

Sakusa and Komori are given a warm welcome home by his parents. They ask them about the people, ask them about their skills, ask them about their improvement.

They tell Sakusa they’re so proud of him. Their friends are so jealous of their only son. They’re sure girls will be fawning all over him. They’re sure a girl better than his ex will come along for him.

When he enters his bedroom, Komori follows behind him and shuts the door. When he knows he’s safe, in a place where only he and Komori can hear, he buries his face into his pillow and just screams for an immeasurable amount of time.

He screams for so long that it’s painful, with Komori’s hand gently rubbing his back, until he passes out.

When he goes back to school, he visits the girls volleyball club during practice and asks their libero out. She says yes and kisses him on the cheek. She introduces him to her team as his boyfriend, holding his hand the whole time. Komori gazes from across the court, looking concerned.

He goes home and scrubs his cheek so hard it turns red. He washes his hands so hard that they peel. He wears gloves to dinner. 

When his parents ask, he’ll say, _it’s just the cold_ instead of _it’s the cost I’m paying to be the good fucking son you want._

  
  


**_T MINUS 1 HOUR AND 43 MINUTES TO THE WEDDING_ **

The breeze is cold but the sun rays keep them warm. It’s almost like the universe is blessing the outdoor wedding with perfect weather.

“See,” Suna says, motioning to the sky, “God loves the gays! What does the church think they’re even sayin’.”

Osamu snorts, tilting his head up, closing his eyes, and feeling the warmth against his face. “I think even Jesus had enough of seein’ those two suffer.”

“Waaaah, the weather’s so nice!” They hear a voice coming from behind them and they both turn around to see who it is.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

Komori walks towards them, struggling to flatten his hair, along with Kita, and the two voices in question, Bokuto and Hinata.

“What’re you guys doin’ here?” Osamu raises an eyebrow at them, “Aren’t ya supposed to be out front waitin’ for the wedding to start?”

“We got bored.” Hinata pouted, “And Kageyama and Yachi are taking _forever_ to arrive.”

“Why is your boyfriend riding with Yachi instead of you?” Bokuto asks, not meaning anything by it, just genuinely confused.

“Hey!” Hinata exclaims, “It’s just because they live closer to each other! If I wasn’t living with you, it’d be me driving him here, okay!”

“S’till a mystery to me how the hell Sakusa and Yachi ended up being best friends.” Kita hums, sitting next to Suna. “Do you guys know how that happened?

Komori shrugs, chuckling lightly. “Gay solidarity, I suppose.”

“Sometimes,” Osamu sighs, leaning back, turning to look at Suna, “That’s all ya really need.”

Suna smiles. “Especially for him. I dunno everything but based on the shit Atsumu used to tell us, his Omi-kun was in a pretty shit situation.”

“He still kinda is.” Bokuto points out, taking out a meat bun from his pocket. “I mean… _they’re_ not coming, are they?”

“Bokuto-san, why tha hell d’ya have a meat bun in yer pocket?” Osamu deadpans.

He’s not even rewarded with an answer. Honestly, Osamu’s not even sure if he wanted to know.

“I don’t think they are.” Komori says, his gaze somewhere far away. “But I think… Sakusa’s alright now. I think he’s gonna be alright.”

“Because he has Atsumu-san now!” Hinata cheers, “Now and for the rest of their lives! Right?”

“Hell yeah!” Bokuto exclaims, “Tsum-Tsum was the only one who ever made him not all… you know, _Sakusa_ -ish. And now they’ll be together forever. Hell yeah!”

Everyone smiles fondly at the two. They were annoying a lot of the time, but everyone, whether they admitted it or not, had a soft spot just for them. 

“Maybe, we should act as Omi’s parents!” Bokuto says, as if it’s the best idea ever. “What if _I_ walked him down the aisle.”

“He’d murder you.” Suna points out.

“No, he’d love it! Right, Komori-kun?”

“He’d murder you.” Komori repeats. “Besides… someone’s already in charge of walking him down the aisle.”

Kita raises his head. “You?”

Komori blinks. “He’d murder me.”

  
  
  


_**T MINUS 9 YEARS BEFORE THE WEDDING** _

The next time Sakusa and Atsumu have no choice but to look at each other face to face again, it’s an entire year after that fateful night in their shared dorm room. 

As usual, as it always is, Inarizaki and Itachiyama are up against each other for the throne of National Volleyball Champions. 

Not to say they never saw each other before then, though. Scattered throughout the year, they would see each other across courts and venues. They’d pass by each other near food stands or T-shirt stalls. They’d catch glances of each other during warm ups or when they’re standing with the rest of the players who qualified for Nationals during the opening. 

Stolen glances. That’s all they ever allowed themselves to have.

Sakusa almost expected for the entire world to know what he and Atsumu did that night, thought that maybe he’d go on some rampage, angry and vengeful, and would tell everyone what a dick he was.

Tell everyone that the #1 ace of high school volleyball was gay and that he’d treated Atsumu like a hit and run. 

If he’d done that, Sakusa probably wouldn’t have survived it. But he probably would’ve deserved it. He wouldn’t have held it against him. 

But he didn’t. He never did. Everytime their eyes met, he never even sensed any anger or resentment in Atsumu’s brown eyes. Sakusa knew that he wasn’t angry. Only hurt.

Sakusa never stopped feeling like shit for it. 

He thought, maybe in a different universe, maybe if he had different parents, they could’ve done more. They could’ve done something. Maybe, he and Atsumu could be giving each other good luck kisses or congratulations kisses or you did well no matter what kisses right now.

Maybe they could’ve been together. Maybe Sakusa wouldn’t have had to spend a whole year making out with another girl he just couldn’t love, no matter how hard he tried. 

Maybe. That’s all he has. A _maybe._

He hadn’t slept with anyone since Atsumu happened. Not that his girlfriend never tried to initiate anything, though. He felt like shit about her, too. He’s yet to touch her without his gloves. She didn’t deserve any of this and he’s always known it. 

He just couldn’t bring himself to do it again. He couldn’t bring himself to do it with anyone else. 

He wonders if Atsumu has. And then, he feels a sting in his chest when he realizes he probably has. 

He pushes the thought away.

When they shake hands before the match starts, Atsumu doesn’t look at him. 

_“Let’s play a good game!”_

Atsumu serves first. That monstrous fucking serve.

He takes six steps back. A jump serve.

He tosses the ball in the air, runs forward, jumps, and aims it straight for Sakusa. 

Sakusa lunges forward in a hurry with arms outstretched, and the ball makes a loud noise as it hits his hands _hard_. It goes up.

 _That hurt, you asshole,_ he tries to communicate to the boy with his eyes.

 _Good,_ his expression seems to say back.

__

  
  


Itachiyama takes first, Inarizaki gets second, and Karasuno sits in third place.

After the awarding ceremony, the three teams take pictures, and then they all scatter to congratulate one another. There’s a good amount of crying.

For some of them, it was their last year ever playing.

This wasn’t even close to being the end of Atsumu’s volleyball career, though it was the end for his brother’s. 

He hasn’t really gotten over that. There are still days when the fact that his twin is quitting volleyball forever pops up in his head and it usually ends with him having to punch Osamu to get the anger out of his system. 

Osamu never says anything about it, at this point. He knows he’s just going through the stages of grief and right now he’s at _Anger._

That anger is heightened at the moment, because it’s his last high school volleyball game, he gets second place instead of first, his first real heartbreak’s team wins first, and to top it all off, his goddamn twin is canoodling with his pretty middle blocker boyfriend somewhere, abandoning his own flesh and blood.

The _nerve._

Once he starts dating someone, he’ll make sure to make Osamu third wheel all the time. All the fucking time. He’ll make sure of that.

It’s in the middle of his angry inner monologue that he walks into the bathroom and runs straight into… _Fuck._

“Well, this is just great.” Atsumu can’t help but say out loud, pushing past Sakusa and turning the tap on. “This is fuckin’ fantastic.”

He doesn’t need to look to know that Sakusa was squirming. “I’m sorry?”

“That apology’s long overdue.” Atsumu mumbles. “Congratulations, by the way.”

He hears Sakusa’s shoes squeak against the marble floor. “Thanks. Congratulations to you and your team too, Miya.”

_It’s back to Miya now, huh. That’s funny._

Atsumu breathes a ghost of a laugh. “Fer what? We lost.”

“You were good.” Sakusa says, sounding sincere which made it worse somehow, “It wasn’t an easy win.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, does it, Omi?” Atsumu shoots back, turning the tap off, his hands clutching onto the edge of the sink. “Doesn’t matter if ya didn’t win.”

Sakusa’s silent at that. Atsumu’s glad. 

He didn’t wanna hear him encourage him with words that he didn’t actually mean. He and Sakusa didn’t get along about a lot of things. But their thoughts on volleyball was the one thing they could agree on. 

Being good means nothing if it doesn’t get you a win.

“You’ll keep playing, won’t you?” Sakusa asks, but it’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Then, just win next time.” 

Atsumu finally turns, finally looks him in the eye, and it bothers him a little more than he thought it would, the expression on Sakusa’s face. 

It looked a whole lot like guilt. It looked a whole fucking lot like pity.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, as if taking each other in. 

“Why’d ya do it?” Atsumu asks in a voice that’s more of an exhale. “I wanna know at least that.”

They both know what he’s talking about, even without him saying it out loud.

Sakusa gulps. His mouth feels dry. “I don’t know.”

_Bullshit._

Atsumu bites his tongue, his jaw tightening. “What the fuck d’ya mean you don’t know? People don’t do shit like that and then fuckin’ _run away_ without knowing.”

“Sure, they do.” Sakusa presses, convincing Atsumu as much as he’s convincing himself, “People do shit like that all the time, don’t they?”

Atsumu feels horrified when he realizes there are tears prickling in the back of his eyes. 

“Was that all it was?” He asks, hoping Sakusa doesn’t hear the slight tremble in his voice, “Was it really? ‘Cause I don’t think it was.”

“It was.”

“Lie to me all you want.” Atsumu says, expression turning hard. “But ya shouldn’t lie to yerself like that.”

Sakusa grimaces, turning his gaze to the wall behind Atsumu. “I don’t want to do this right now. It’s been a year, Miya. I… I have a girlfriend.”

Atsumu almost laughs at that. He laughs because when he says the word _‘girlfriend’_ he sounds like he’s being held at gunpoint. 

There’s a lot of fucking things Atsumu wants to say. A shit ton of things. He swallows them all down.

“Alright, Omi.” Atsumu says, closing his eyes, and swiping at them with the back of his hand. “I won’t tell you how to live yer damn life.”

His arm brushes against Sakusa’s as he walks past him. “But next time, leave me the fuck out of it.”

Before Atsumu can make it past the door, he hears Sakusa speak.

“It’s not that simple for everyone. It’s not… that easy for everyone.”

Atsumu’s hand tightens around the door frame. He fights the urge to yell. 

“Just so ya fuckin’ know,” He says between gritted teeth, “Yer the only one I’ve fuckin’ done that shit with. Because know what? It wasn’t just _that_ for me. I don’t do shit like that if it doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Silence.

“So yeah,” Atsumu continues, not even trying to hide the anger in his voice anymore, “It’s not that fuckin’ _easy_ for everyone. Have a good fuckin’ night, Omi. And have the best god damn celebration. Congratulations.”

Atsumu’s just about ready to tear the entire venue down looking for his brother, when he sees him sitting on a bench in the corner with Suna, protein bars in their hands.

When he approaches them, he’s angrily wiping his face. He’s glad that people can just assume he’s in this state because of their loss. It was half true, anyway.

Osamu knew better, though. 

“What the fuck happened?” He asks, grabbing onto Atsumu’s wrist and sitting him down.

“Where’re the others? Kita-san? Aran-kun?” He sniffs.

“With their families.” Osamu says, still looking concerned, “Ours are out buyin’ stupid t-shirts. What the fuck’s wrong with ya, Tsumu?”

“Ya look terrible, just so ya know.” Suna adds, leaning down to get a good look at Atsumu’s face.

Atsumu puts his legs up and folds himself into a fetal position, burying his face in his knees like a child throwing a tantrum. 

“I saw Omi in the bathroom.” He grumbles. “Wasn’t a fun conversation.”

The lovers share a look. Suna instantly sighs and stands up, making his way to sit on Atsumu’s other side. They both lay their hands on his back, patting him and playing with his hair. 

All Atsumu needed at times like this was attention. Like a ten year old kid.

“Ya never did tell me what the fuck happened last year.” Osamu points out. “I dunno how to help ya with this.”

Atsumu groans. “I _can’t,_ I hate him, but it ain’t just my story to tell. Besides,” He sighs, “Yer the one who told me it’s a shit time to still be figurin’ yerself out, right?”

Osamu bites his lip. “Was he a dick?”

“Yeah.” Atsumu sighs. “Whatever. I’m mad but I’ll leave ‘im the fuck alone. I think he might have some issues he hasta work through.”

Suna and Osamu share a look again and they don’t know what exactly is going on, but somehow, they can make a good guess. 

Osamu’s gaze lands on a group a few feet away from them, namely the Itachiyama team, with some of their families. 

Sakusa’s standing with his parents and Komori. 

People talked about the kind of family Sakusa Kiyoomi belonged to. The kind of people his parents are.

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Atsumu probably knew it too. It’s probably the only reason why he hadn’t punched him right in the nose in the bathroom.

“Y’know,” Suna starts, rubbing comforting circles on Atsumu’s back, “When someone’s raised to believe that who they are is wrong, they really start believin’ in it.”

Atsumu hums. 

“Don’t get hung up on this, Tsumu.” Osamu says, throwing an arm around his brother, squeezing lightly. “Don’t get hung up on him. I know yer stubborn as hell, but I think ya need to let this go and let him figure his shit out. I don’t want ya goin’ out there and makin’ shit complicated.”

Atsumu glares at him. “ _I_ didn’t make shit complicated for him, he’s the one-”

“I don’t give a shit about Sakusa Kiyoomi, Tsumu, I meant fer _you.”_ Osamu clarifies, “If I have to see ya like this over him again, I’m gonna punch ya in the face, hear me?”

Atsumu lets out a long breath. He nods.

“Good.” His brother says, letting go of him. “Focus on volleyball. How’re ya gonna go pro when yer still so shit at it?”

That earns him a punch to the jaw.

Suna brings out his phone and presses the record button.

  
  


A few feet away from them, Sakusa poses for pictures, holding up his medal with a gloved hand. His parents motion for him and his girlfriend to stand closer together. 

She stands on her tiptoes and leans towards him, her lips puckering up as if about to kiss him, but only hovering a few centimeters from his cheek. His parents smile fondly.

Komori looks like he’s the one in pain. 

It’s as they’re changing out of their jerseys that Komori turns to him, asks, “Are you sure about what you’re doing, Sakusa? I’m worried about you, you know. It’s been a year. You look… miserable.”

Sakusa clenches his jaw. 

Komori sighs heavily. “Do you actually like her?”

“She’s a good person.” He says, shoving his dirty clothes into a plastic bag, “She’s good for me.”

Komori zips up his jacket, staring at the back of Sakusa’s head sadly. “That’s not what I asked.”

  
  


A few weeks later, after their high school graduation, Sakusa breaks up with her. She cries and asks why. He flounders and ends up going with,

“I.. uh…” He pauses, shoving his hands in his pocket, “... cheated on you.”

She slaps him and walks away in tears.

He rubs his cheek that she’d kissed so many times before and feels nothing but numbness. 

He guesses he didn’t exactly lie. Emotional cheating was a thing, right?

This time, for some reason, he’s even less upset than the first time he was broken up with. He stands in front of his bathroom mirror, staring at the redness on his cheek, and all he can think about is Atsumu saying, _I don’t do shit like that if it doesn’t mean anything to me._

When he tells his parents about his breakup #2, they’re devastated. They liked her a lot. They said she was a good girl. He pretends to be sad and tells them that they just couldn’t work it out, volleyball took up too much of his time, she couldn’t put up with it, and they were getting distant. 

But he’s not sad. He’s tired. 

He’s so tired. He wants to tell them that he’s dated two girls, kissed them more times than he could count, but couldn’t feel even a millimeter of what he’d felt with Atsumu that night. 

He tried. God knows he fucking tried. If there’s anything he did, it’s that. 

“It’s alright, sweetie,” His mom says, kissing the top of his head, “You’ll meet a lot of great girls in university. Everyone will have their eyes on my beautiful boy.”

Sakusa wonders, _if he tells them the truth, will he lose this? Will he lose being their beautiful boy?_

_Was he okay with losing that?_

**T MINUS 8-4 YEARS BEFORE THE WEDDING**

University wasn’t all that interesting or life changing for Sakusa Kiyoomi. People always told him back then that college would be where everything changed for you.

Not much did.

He was living alone for the first time. So, technically, he had a lot more freedom to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. 

He didn’t party, didn’t make too many friends though he did have a few acquaintances, and spent all his time either studying or training. All he needed to do was get his fucking degree and then he could go pro, like he’s always wanted. 

His first year went by uneventfully. 

He was busy, _really_ busy, which was probably why his parents weren’t on his case about him not dating anyone or making any friends. Although.

It was a few months into the first semester of his sophomore year that he’d walked into the library and met eyes with a familiar face. 

“Oh.” They say at the same time, pointing at each other, like that spiderman meme. 

“Itachiyama ace!”

“Karasuno manager…”

Sakusa’s eyes drift to the girl’s backpack and the very bright rainbow pin on the front pouch, catching his attention. 

He stares up at her.

She tilts her head. 

“Wanna sit with me?” Sakusa asks before he can chicken out, motioning to a free table.

“Sure!” She smiles. “You’re… Sakusa-san, right? I’m Yachi! Yachi Hitoka!”

Sakusa never thought he’d be saying this, but his mom was right about one thing. When he got to university, he did meet great girls. 

Well, one (1) girl. Just the one.

Sakusa awkwardly returns her smile as they pull out their seats. “How’re the guys from Karasuno?”

She goes on a tangent after that. 

_It’s strange_ , Sakusa thinks, as he listens to her talk. For some reason, he feels it in an instant.

The feeling that it was the beginning of something really important.

It’s half a year into the friendship that Sakusa gathers the nerve to ask Yachi about her sexuality.

She tells him she’s a lesbian as if she were just telling him what she had for lunch. 

She doesn’t ask him back, the way that Atsumu hadn’t, years ago, and he wonders if the fear is written all over his face.

She doesn’t ask, but he says it anyway. 

“I’m gay.” 

Yachi smiles and reaches out to squeeze his hand. They stay like that for a few seconds before she exhales, turns to him and asks, 

“So, that new episode of BNHA. Thoughts?”

Sakusa loves her very, very much at that moment. 

He then has flashbacks to last night, crying over Mirio smiling at Eri despite the fact that he’s bleeding all over. “And prayers.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi firmly believes that he wouldn’t have survived past college without the existence of Komori Motoya and Yachi Hitoka. 

Through them, he makes a few friends, he goes to a few parties, he makes out with a few boys, drunkenly. (He does not remember their names or their faces for the life of him, though.)

He lives. He lets himself live, just a little bit.

The night before his graduation, he sits in his couch with the two, Komori only half conscious and Yachi going on another one of her tangents about how her first love, Kiyoko (Karasuno’s manager before her, apparently), had ended up being straight. 

She finishes her woeful rant with a drunken sigh and turns to look at Sakusa with hooded eyes and pink cheeks. “What ‘bout you, Sakusa-kun?”

“Hmm?” Sakusa hums, lolling his head to the side to look at her, ignoring the way his brain seems to be turning into mush in his skull.

“Your first love!” Yachi exclaims, throwing her hands in the air, “You’ve never told me about him!”

Komori nearly wakes himself up with his own snore, but promptly falls back asleep.

Sakusa snorts. 

“First love…” He muses, staring at the ceiling, “I don’t think I have one.”

Yachi gapes at him. “What?”

“I mean,” Sakusa continues, licking his lips, “I’ve only ever… had feelings for one person.”

Yachi scoots closer to him, attentive as ever. “Who was it? A teammate?”

Sakusa knows how many wounds he’d be opening with this, but he does it anyway. Because he’s in a room, drunk, with no one but Komori and Yachi. 

He knows it’s safe.

“Miya Atsumu.” He says. “He isn’t a _was,_ he’s a… he’s a _still._ He’s an… _all the time.”_

Yachi stays quiet. Komori stops snoring. Sakusa thinks he’s half awake, half listening.

“I don’t know if I’d call him a first love. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s _like._ But he’ll always mean something to me, I think.” Sakusa explains, running his fingers over the cold of his beer can. “He was my first… everything.”

“Everything?” Yachi whispers.

“Everything that mattered, anyway.” Sakusa clarifies, “And then, I ruined it. I hurt him. I hurt myself. It was… not great.”

Yachi turns to face the ceiling, head resting against the back of the couch, mirroring Sakusa’s position, “Why’d you ruin it?”

“Because I knew that if I didn’t pull away, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.” A lump starts forming in Sakusa’s throat. He pushes it down, forces his voice out, “And letting myself love him means my parents will stop loving me.”

He wills himself not to get emotional. Keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling.

Yachi lays her head on his shoulder and Sakusa lets himself rest his cheek on top of her head. 

“If they stop loving you because of that,” Yachi says gently, “I don’t think they truly loved you in the first place.”

Sakusa closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “I know. That scares me even more.”

Komori shifts in his position and leans against Sakusa’s other side. Sakusa instantly shoves him off and he falls like a limp vegetable against the arm rest.

“Love ya, Sakusa Kiyoomi.” He mumbles drunkenly, “Forever ‘n always, my dude.”

Yachi giggles. “Ditto.”

Sakusa swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Disgusting.”

Yachi pats his knee comfortingly. 

“It sounds like he means a lot to you,” She says, closing her eyes, “You should tell him that.”

Sakusa chuckles sadly. “I don’t even know if I’m ever gonna get the chance.”

__

“So,” His new coach says, patting his shoulder, and motioning to the guys standing in front of him with one arm, “This is your new team. Welcome to the MSBY Jackals, Sakusa Kiyoomi!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto cheers, reaching out to give him a hug, before catching himself, and shrinking back. “Haven’t seen you in a minute, Sakusa-kun!”

“Sakusa-saaaaaan!” Hinata yells, pumping his fists in the air, “I’m glad you’re joining us! I’ve kinda been hoping you’d join us after college! We’ve been betting, you see-”

“Bokuto, Hinata, please,” Meian begs, giving Sakusa an apologetic look, pulling them back by the collars of their shirts, “Sorry about them, Sakusa-kun. I’m the captain, Meian.” 

Sakusa bows, trying his damn hardest not to let his gaze roam to a certain blonde who’s rooted in place, staring at him. Sakusa didn’t wanna know what expression he was wearing. 

“Oliver and Adriah aren’t here right now, so I’ll introduce them to you later but… well, this is Inunaki, our libero,”

Sakusa nods at him and Inunaki smiles at him, nodding back. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Sakusa manages.

“And I guess you already know these guys,” Meian says, motioning to the other three. “They say they all played you in high school. Said you were terrifying.”

Sakusa smiles at that. A genuine one. “I’ll take it as a compliment. They were all monsters too.”

“That, they are.” Meian nods. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

“I think the same.” The coach says, clapping Sakusa on the back harshly. 

“Sakusa-kun! Can you show us your bendy wrist thing aga-”

“Ooh, the one where he can fold it until his fingers touch his ar-”

Sakusa finally lets himself look at the man standing at the farthest end of the room. 

Miya Atsumu looked… _sacred_. 

If he looked good back then, Sakusa didn’t even know where to begin with the way he looked now. His formerly straight, mustard colored hair has now faded into a light, golden shade, falling in slightly curled waves. He kept the undercut.

And both his arms and legs are… sinful, as always.

“Omi.” Atsumu calls out, sounding exactly the way he did five years ago. “Long time no see?”

When Atsumu smiles it holds no anger or pain, not the way it did the last time he’d heard that nickname. He says his name as if their last conversation had never happened. 

Sakusa’s glad. He looked better. 

But a part of him, a small part, feels a slight sting at the thought that maybe that night six years ago didn’t mean as much to Atsumu as it did to him.

“Long time, Miya.” Sakusa says, expression softening against his will. 

The air around Miya Atsumu feels different. Where he used to be jagged and uneven, he was now sharper and smoother. When he used to seem arrogant and stand-offish, it’s toned down into an aura of confidence and ease.

Miya Atsumu had changed over the last five years. They’re twenty two now and it shows.

But Sakusa looks at him and still feels the exact same way he did when he was fifteen. 

It’s still there. It’s still the same. 

No, it’s _stronger_. 

And he wants to kiss him again. _God_ , does he want to. He wants to close the space between them and kiss him, right now, this instant, in front of everyone. He thinks, maybe he can do it now. He’s done it before with a few boys, drunk, at a party.

But he knows he can’t. He knows this is different. 

Atsumu smiles, reaching forward to pat him on the shoulder. “I guess I kinda missed ya, Omi-Omi. Welcome to the team.”

When Atsumu squeezes his shoulder, Sakusa looks him in the eye, and that’s when he sees it. 

A hint of affection, the same expression he’d seen in his eyes when they shared heat and warmth in their shared bunk bed six years ago, the same expression he’d never been able to make himself forget.

And he knows at that moment, that for some reason, that night still meant something to him too. 

With Atsumu, it’ll always be different. 

If Sakusa kisses him, he’ll probably fall in love with him. He’ll probably fall instantly.

He probably already has. He never stood a fucking chance.

__

**_Sakusa Kiyoomi_ **

_I’m sending this message to the both of you at the same time to save my breath._

_Komori, Yachi. Mother of all that is good and holy. Fucking save me._

_God, if you’re real, take me. I am your child._

_It’s only been three months. I thought being his teammate would be bearable, which, it would’ve been if we were just teammates. But, no. Oh no, we had to be roommates. Again. Fucking. Again. You know what happened the last time we were roommates? We slept together._

_Well, we jerked each other off but same difference. And that was the product of us being roommates for a measly four nights and five days. It only took 4 nights and the view of him in a towel for me to crack. Now, I’ve been seeing him in a towel near daily and we’re spending almost every waking hour together. Last night, we watched Attack on Titan and he fell asleep on my shoulder. He drooled all over it and I didn’t even think it was gross. Think about that._

_Last week, he made me blow dry his hair for him and it was so fucking soft. How does he keep it that soft when he dyes it all the time? Now, I’m pissed, turned on, and curious about what hair product he uses._

_I think I’m gonna die. And I know you’re probably gonna say, just sleep with him, just kiss him and be done with it, it’ll be fine, it’s not like your parents still live with you. And maybe you’re right. It’s not like I haven’t done it with other people._

_But I can’t just kiss him and be done with it, because if I kiss him, I’m done. That’s it. I’ll take one step and I won’t be able to make myself go back. I’m set for life. You get me?_

_And I know you’re gonna tell me I can’t live like this my whole life, but I don’t know what other choice I have. Be myself and lose my fucking family? I can’t do that. You guys know I can’t do that. They’re assholes a lot, and I hate them sometimes, especially for this, but they’re still my parents and I love them._

_Do you think the blow of me being gay will be lessened if I tell them the one I’m in love with also happens to be a star volleyball player? Fuck._

_He’s been walking around shirtless more often. That irritating smirk he used to use to get to me back in high school is back in full force. It’s worse now than it was then, if you can believe it. I think he knows what he’s doing. I feel myself starting to crack and I think he can tell. Does he think things will be different this time? Actually, now that I think about it, will they be?_

_That’s up to me, isn’t it? I wanna die._

_Fuck this shit._

**_Komori Motoya_ **

_RIP Sakusa Kiyoomi_

_COD: Idiocy Brought By Homophobic Boomers 😔✊🏻_

_you’ll be fine. im not gonna tell you things you already know._

**_Yachi Hitoka_ **

_Be brave, Sakusa Kiyoomi! It’s your life! Why live it any other way than how you want to?_

_This is the chance you didn’t think you were ever gonna get!!! Don’t be an idiot!!! Take it! !!!!! And no matter what, we’ll be right here. Always right here! 😙_

  
  


__

The breaking point comes in the form of locker room talk.

“What the fuck, Shoyo?” Atsumu exclaims, pulling his socks off, “Since when were you ‘n Tobio an item?”

“Uh,” He starts, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “It’s… a recent development. But, we’ve sort of been dancing around each other for years, so…”

“That’s adorable.” Inunaki sniffs. “I can’t believe you guys are growing up so fast.”

Sakusa blinks. Hinata’s gay, huh? Wow. The more you fucking know.

“Let me tell ya, Hinata!” Bokuto announces, throwing his sweaty jersey over his shoulder, “I feel you ‘cause Keiji and I were flirting _forever,_ like, four whole years before he agreed to be my boyfriend! Can you believe that? He wouldn’t believe I actually liked him!”

Sakusa tries not to look like his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. Holy shit. He joined the gayest volleyball team there is. He didn’t even have to try. Maybe gay people are magnets.

“It’s so annoying!” Hinata nods enthusiastically, “I confessed to Kageyama after our first Nationals, but he wouldn’t take me seriously! He was like, _no, you’re delirious, you have a fever,”_ Hinata imitates in a scarily accurate way, pressing his hair down into a bowl cut in perfect Kageyama fashion, “and I was like, yes, I have a fever but I’m also in love! Those two things are separate!”

Atsumu sighs longingly, resting his chin on his hand. “Must be nice…”

Oliver zips his bag closed, the only one so far who looks freshened up and ready to go. “Oh, not this again. Don’t do it. Don’t get in your head about being the only single one here. Self pity is not a good look on you.”

Atsumu pouts. “It’s _not_ self-pity. Can’t a guy be lonely without bein’ trash talked? Sheesh.”

“Hey, Sakusa-san!” Hinata yells, making Sakusa jump slightly at suddenly being included into the conversation, “I realized we’ve never asked you! Are you seeing anyone?”

Sakusa nearly chokes on his spit. 

To cover up his embarrassment, he combs his fingers through his hair, pushing his curls back, and he sees Atsumu’s loaded stare from the corner of his eye. 

He hates it, but it’s nice to know he’s not the only one who’s still affected.

“No.” He answers, shrugging his shoulders. “Hasn’t really been a priority.”

“There you go, Tsum-Tsum!” Bokuto says, cheerily, “You’re not the only single one in the team!”

Atsumu just stares at him, eyes narrowing as Sakusa stares back. “Guess not.”

It lasts a few seconds before Sakusa turns away, fishing for his sports drink. 

“It can’t be all that miserable,” Meian says, coming out of the showers with a towel around his waist, “You’ve had the most interesting sex life, haven’t you? You at least have _that_ hanging over our heads.”

Sakusa chokes on his Gatorade. 

Atsumu smiles, looking thoroughly entertained. Sakusa wants to kiss the stupid smirk off his face.

“Jealous, Omi-kun?” He teases.

“I’ll kick your fucking ass, Miya.”

“My favorite story is the one where he was getting his ass eaten and someone walked in.” Hinata shares, making half the team laugh, and the other half groan.

Sakusa would literally rather be anywhere but here.

Atsumu’s face scrunches up. “Good to know you like that one, ‘cause that was terrible for me.”

Sakusa stands abruptly, making the rest quiet down, staring at him curiously. 

Atsumu’s knowing expression is infuriating.

He realizes he should say something.

“I’m gonna go shower.” He announces, before swiftly turning away. 

When he’s in the safety of one of the shower stalls with water cascading over his back, it’s only then that he lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. 

Ass eating. Jesus Christ.

A few minutes later, in the middle of his mental breakdown, he hears the rest of his teammates leave the locker room, followed by footsteps making their way to where he was. 

He hears the shower door right next to his open and then close, and listens as the shower turns on, followed by Atsumu’s voice, humming a song he doesn’t recognize.

Sakusa thinks about how Atsumu likes having his ass eaten. 

He also thinks about how he’s completely naked right now in the stall right next to him.

And then he thinks about how he was greeted this morning with the view of Atsumu in nothing but boxers, in all his bed-headed glory, with a _“G’mornin’, Omi. Make me coffee?”_

His soapy hand drifts down to his chest, ghosting over his nipples, down his stomach, until they’re hovering over the hair covering his crotch.

He thinks about Atsumu from six years ago, hand wrapped around his cock, he thinks about the Atsumu right next to him, he thinks about what it would be like to just…

He wraps his hand around his cock decidedly, stroking slowly at first, fist loose, leaning his forehead against the wall, biting his bottom lip to keep his noises in.

As Atsumu continues to hum, he strokes faster, tightening his hand around himself, using his free hand to grip onto the grab bar to ground himself.

He doesn’t realize it when his breathing turns into soft, barely-there-but-there groans. So, he doesn’t hear it when the shower stall next to him goes silent.

He keeps stroking, breaths quickening, when he’s interrupted with an, “Omi? What the fuck’re ya doin’ in there?”

Sakusa freezes, hand tightening painfully around his cock. 

Because he realizes the voice isn’t coming from the stall next to him. It’s coming from right outside his door.

He’s fucking mortified but somehow, that turns him on even more. He’s fucked. He squeezes his eyes closed.

“Nothing.”

It sounds like bullshit even to him.

There’s a pause. He sees the bare feet under the door shuffling closer. 

“Sure didn’t sound like nothin’.”

Sakusa wanted to die. There’s no getting out of this. 

“You _know_ what I was doing.” Sakusa decides to say, voice low and urgent, “Now can you go away so I can… I don’t fucking know, finish off here-”

“Can I help?”

_Fuck. FUCK._

Sakusa gulps. 

He holds on tightly to his last shred of dignity and self-control as he takes a deep steadying breath. 

“Are you sure?”

Atsumu scoffs. “Are _you?”_

Sakusa nearly cries, one hand already reaching out for the lock. 

_“Fuck,_ Atsumu,” He groans, “Why do you still get me going after all these years?”

“Open the fuckin’ door, Omi, or I’m breakin’ it down.”

Sakusa rips the door open and drags Atsumu in by the arm, instantly latching onto his lips.

Atsumu moans loudly, throwing his arms around his neck, as Sakusa reaches behind him to lock the door again.

As they press their bodies closer together, their cocks rub against each other, and Sakusa growls at the way that Atsumu’s already fully hard.

“Were you getting hard listening to me?” He asks against Atsumu’s mouth.

“Shut up.” He hisses, grabbing onto Sakusa’s hair, “Kiss me.”

They fit together like they were never apart. It feels almost like they’re picking up right where they left off, hands all over each other, as if trying to touch everything they’d missed last time, all their movements more confident and sure compared to the first time. More desperate, too.

“Fuck,” Atsumu breathes out, “Fuck, Omi, kiss my neck, mark me up, all over-”

“Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom~” They hear from a close distance, the off pitch singing accompanied by skipping sounds and what sounded like Bokuto doing the ad libs that consisted of, “Hey, hey, heeeey, bathroom, oh yeaaaah~”

Atsumu’s hands freeze up, gripping onto Sakusa’s waist so tightly it hurts, letting out a soft whine. He should cut his damn nails.

Sakusa raises a finger to his lips, silently telling Atsumu to shut the fuck up.

They stay quiet as they hear the sounds of pissing, a locker opening and closing, and the tap running.

“Sakusa-san? Atsumu-san?” Hinata calls out, “You guys not done yet? Everyone’s ready!”

“Uh… m’almost done, Shoyo-kun!” Atsumu yells, sounding so casual it’s almost impressive.

“Me too.” Sakusa adds, hoping he sounds just as convincing.

“Alright!”

As the footsteps fade and then disappear, the two finally breathe again, sagging against the wall.

“You okay?” Atsumu asks, pushing Sakusa’s hair back.

“I’ll kill them.” He grunts.

Atsumu giggles at that, fucking _giggles,_ and that makes Sakusa actually look at him and…

_Oh no._

He hurriedly grips onto Atsumu’s shoulders, lightly pushing him away, trying to gather his thoughts. 

The change in Atsumu’s expression is almost instant. He goes from giggly to exasperated in the span of half a second.

As Sakusa turns the shower off and is about to reach for the lock, Atsumu takes hold of his wrist, using his other hand to push him against the wall.

“No.”

“Wha-” Sakusa sputters, trying to break free, “What the fuck do you mean no, I was just gonna--”

“No, yer gonna run away from me.” Atsumu presses, “ _Again._ Ya can’t do that, Omi. We live together. We work together. Ya can’t pull this shit again. We aren’t teenagers anymore.”

Sakusa bites his tongue and tastes blood. He _wasn’t_ gonna run. 

Shit, that doesn’t sound convincing even in his head.

Atsumu stares at him for a long time, searching his expression, and Sakusa has no choice but to face him head on, let him look at him. 

Atsumu deserved at least that much. 

“What?” Sakusa asks, voice reduced to a weak whisper.

Atsumu’s face softens. 

“Why’re you so scared of this?” He asks, sounding close to desperate. “Can’t you tell me now?”

The expression on Atsumu’s face at that moment is so raw that it hurts. 

Sakusa finds himself having to hold onto Atsumu’s arms to keep himself up, literally and metaphorically. He takes a deep breath. 

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’s gonna be fine.

He presses his forehead against Atsumu’s, watches as his eyelids flutter close.

“Sometimes,” He admits, “I want you so badly that for a second, I think… I’d be willing to give them up. I’d be willing to give it all up, if I get to have this just a little longer.”

Atsumu thinks, _give them up?_ Atsumu thinks, looks back, and remembers hearing all the rumors about his family, hearing about how Sakusa Kiyoomi was a rich kid who studied in a fucking Catholic school. 

Atsumu realizes, ah. _Them._

“But I _can’t.”_ He says and his voice is trembling.

Atsumu realizes then and there, how much he wants this. And at the same time, realizes then and there, that he can’t have it.

Not like this.

Atsumu sighs. “How ‘bout this, Omi?”

Sakusa looks up at him and he looks so unintentionally vulnerable, it hurts.

“I don’t want you to do things that’ll make ya wanna run away.” Atsumu says, “And I don’t wanna get hurt anymore. I know ya don’t mean to, but it hurts anyway.”

Sakusa at least has the decency to look guilty.

“This is something that I can’t really help with, right?” Atsumu continues, steadying his breath, “So… no more of this, no more… _any_ of this. At least not until ya figure yer shit out and decide on how ya wanna live yer life. How ‘bout we just do this the normal way, be friends, be roommates, take it slow, ‘n see where that takes us. Is that alright?”

Sakusa blinks at him. 

“Yeah… yeah, sure, but,” He licks his lips, “I think this conversation would be more productive if we weren’t having it naked.”

Atsumu looks down. “Right.”

“But,” Sakusa continues, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for everything. And, I’m grateful you’re being… you know… _you._ ”

Atsumu’s face contorts into an expression of pain. “God, ya gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, yer gonna kill me.”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows.

Atsumu takes a deep breath. Inhales, exhales. 

“Alright. Friends, Omi-Omi?” He asks, reaching a hand out, initiating a… handshake.

Sakusa wants to laugh. They’re fucking _naked_ here. 

He grabs the hand, shaking it firmly. “Friends. Sure.”

_Friends._

_That sounds… good for him. Good for the both of them, actually. Then, he could have both Atsumu and his family. That’s perfect._ _Friends. They can totally be just friends._

__

Narrator, two months later: They totally could not be just friends.

  
  


**JACKALS MINUS SAKUATSU GC**

**_Hinata Shoyo_ **

[sent a photo]

_They fell asleep like this. Look at how cozy they look :(_

_Sakusa-san’s cheekies :( against Atsumu-san’s shoulder :(_

**_Bokuto Koutarou_ **

_IM CRYING._

_LAST WEEK I WENT TO THEIR APARTMENT AND OMI KUN WAS COOKING LUNCH 4 TSUM TSUM. HE HAD AN APRON ON AND EVERYTHING!!!!! IT WAS PINK!!!!_

**_Shugo Meian_ **

_Atsumu bought him that apron. The one with the cats?_

_He also bought Sakusa a bunch of colored clips. The ones he uses for training_

**_Shion Inunaki_ **

_[sent a video]_

_From when we got drunk last weekend and Atsumu started cuddling up to Sakusa and he looked constipated_

**_Bokuto Koutarou_ **

_HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA LMAO!!!!!!_

_I’M BETTING MONEY ON… 1 MORE MONTH!_

**_Hinata Shoyo_ **

_I bet two!!!!_

**_Oliver Barnes_ **

_This is so immature and inappropriate._

_I bet four. They’re both emotionally stunted._

_And brats._

**_Adriah Thomas_ **

_^ seconded_

**_Shugo Meian_ **

_I refuse to participate in this madness._

_But I will say, when Atsumu was drunk he cried a little to me about how Sakusa’s hair and forehead moles were ruining his life. The man looked like he was going to break._

_So, like… One month._

**_Shion Inunaki_ **

_I bet on never._

_What makes any of you think they’re ever gonna get it together?_

_Have you met them?_

**_Hinata Shoyo_ **

_SHIT…. HES RIGHT_

__

Hinata spikes the ball and it flies past Suna’s hands, hitting the ground with a loud noise as it bounces off, the ball going so high it almost hits the stands.

The whistle blows. The referee motions to them with his arm. 

The MSBY Jackals win against EJP Raijin.

“In yer fuckin’ _face,_ Sunarin!” Atsumu yells at the top of his lungs, throwing his fists in the air. “Bow down to tha superior Miya Twin!”

He glances at the audience and sees Osamu with his arms crossed in front of his chest, somehow managing to look both annoyed and proud.

“I’ll get ya next time.” Suna promises, as both teams line up and shake each other’s hands under the net.

“You’ve got a long way to go before you catch up to me, Komori.” Sakusa says, reaching out to shake his cousin’s hand.

“Oh, shove it.” Komori laughs, the smile on his face betraying his words.

Later, they find themselves surrounded by different groups of different people. Oliver’s wife and kids, Adriah’s fiance, Hinata’s mom, little sister, and of course, Kageyama Tobio with a bouquet of roses. There’s Bokuto with his friends and boyfriend. Atsumu, Osamu, their parents, Suna Rintarou and his grandmother, some Inarizaki alumni were there too. 

The camera flashes start to get blinding.

Sakusa turns around and sees his own parents making their way towards him.

“My beautiful boy!” His mother coos, holding Sakusa’s face in her hands. “You were amazing!”

His dad pats him on the back and ruffles his hair. “I’m proud of you, Kiyoomi. You’ve been doing amazing things.”

Sakusa smiles. Despite everything, he still liked hearing their praise. 

Komori slides up next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders, bringing Yachi along with him. “Good game!”

“You two were great!” Yachi exclaims.

“Thanks, Yach.” Sakusa says, patting her hair down, fighting the urge to hug her like he usually would, lest his parents start thinking there was something between them. That’d be an awkward conversation. “Glad you came.” 

Komori’s parents and his own bring out their phones, motioning for the three of them to stand together so they can take more pictures than Sakusa thinks is necessary.

There's a lot of smiling and camera flashes and praise, until the moment is broken with a change in expression in his father’s face. 

He leans down and whispers something to his mother.

Sakusa turns around to see whatever they’re looking at and he finds that it’s the Miya family taking selfies together. 

Osamu’s arm was wrapped around Suna’s shoulders and Suna’s arms were wrapped around his waist, as Osamu pressed a wet kiss to his cheek. Atsumu pretends to look grossed out (“Can’t ya guys keep it in yer pants for a fuckin’ second?” “Atsumu! Language!”), and their parents smile brightly at the camera.

“Isn’t that your roommate, Kiyoomi?” His dad asks, subtly motioning to them. 

Komori turns, sees what he’s referring to, and his grip on Sakusa’s shoulder tightens. A silent comfort.

Yachi has a steadying hand on his back.

“Yeah.” Sakusa chokes out.

“His twin is…” His mom hesitates, making a face that looked weary, “Is Atsumu also...?”

_Yeah, he is. Your son is the same, too. Are you gonna look at me like that too if you knew?_

“I don’t know, mom.” Sakusa chooses to say instead, turning away from the Miya family, apologizing to them in his head. “We don’t… talk about that. We’re just-”

“Sakusa-san!” Hinata yells from a few feet away, wrapped in a Kageyama Tobio back hug, “We’re partying at our apartment later! You coming?”

He nods.

“I’ve gotta go.” He says to his parents, giving them both quick one-armed hugs, then squeezing Komori’s shoulder and patting Yachi’s head. “I’ll see you guys.”

His mom opens her mouth, as if to say something more, eyeing the rest of his teammates. At the way Osamu and Suna are wrapped around each other, at the press of Kageyama’s lips against Hinata’s temple, at the way Bokuto lifts Akaashi in his arms and spins him around.

He doesn’t want to see the disgust in his parents’ faces looking at everything Sakusa had ever wanted for himself and could never get.

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be fine. 

At that moment, Atsumu turns to look at him and flashes him a smile. Not a playful one, not a cocky one, but the special one he saves just for him. 

_Wow_ , you know what. This was not fine. He was _not_ fine.

Bokuto and Hinata had better have some fucking whiskey at their place or else he was leaving.

__

The perks of living in an apartment complex with his teammates was that none of them had to worry about getting too drunk at after parties and not being able to make it home, because home was always just one elevator ride away.

The cons of living in an apartment complex with his teammates was living in a fucking apartment complex with his teammates. 

They’re tolerable at this point, hell, Sakusa even _likes_ them sometimes. And maybe if he were drunk enough, he wouldn’t be feeling so murderous over hearing Bokuto belt What’s New Pussycat for the fourth time in a row. 

The first two times for fun, the next two times for serenading those two Nekoma guys, Kenma and Kuroo apparently, through a video call.

(Bless them. They at least pretended to be amused. At least that Kenma guy did. Kuroo was downright having the time of his life.) 

Kageyama and Akaashi seemed to be the only ones in the room who were still in their right minds, but only because they’re on babysitting duty for the sake of their respective boyfriends.

Hinata had thrown up twice in the past hour and a half, and Kageyama looked one more bathroom trip away from cutting him off for the rest of the night.

Bokuto is…. Bokuto. Sakusa can’t even be sure if he’s actually drunk or just being him. Inunaki is passed out on a beanbag chair. Meian had left thirty minutes ago, claiming he was getting way too old for this. Oliver and Adriah are fucking married with kids, so they’re _definitely_ above this.

Sakusa’s drunk too, not as drunk as he wished he was, but drunk all the same. At least, enough for him to be playing with Atsumu’s hand resting on his lap.

“Omi,” He slurs, droopy eyes gazing up at him, “D’ya think the new hand cream Tobio recommended is working? I can’t tell if my hands are gettin’ softer or not.”

Sakusa runs his fingers over Atsumu’s palm, feeling each of his fingers one by one. Atsumu stretches out his hand and Sakusa does the same, sliding their palms against each other.

“They’re calloused as fuck.” Sakusa answers. “Beyond redemption.”

A dumb smile materializes on Atsumu’s face because Sakusa curls his fingers into the spaces between his anyway, and Atsumu does the same, interlacing them together.

“So are yours.” Atsumu shoots back. He runs a thumb back and forth over Sakusa’s skin.

Their joint hands rest on Sakusa’s thigh, gloves forgotten on the table in front of them. Atsumu sighs contentedly.

Unbeknownst to them, the room goes a little quieter, everyone’s attention at least half on them. Bokuto tries to film them inconspicuously. 

“Y’know, I’m kinda honored.” Atsumu chuckles, turning his head slightly, so his cheek touches Sakusa’s shoulder. “You hate being touched by everyone else, but ya never mind when it’s me.”

Sakusa grunts, his fingers tightening around his hand.

“Why’s that?”

Sakusa looks at him, his cheeks slightly red from the alcohol. And he smiles a smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes. It looks sad, almost. 

Atsumu’s chest tightens. _Why?_

“I don’t know, Miya.” Sakusa says it like it pains him, like he wishes he had a different answer, “If I knew, maybe I’d know how to make it stop.”

Atsumu swallows, unable to look away, the noise of the apartment being drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat. “What does that mean?”

Sakusa was starting to understand how alcohol can ruin entire lives. 

He breathes out a weak laugh, looks away before he can think of doing something stupid. 

“Let’s not.” He says with a tone of finality, closing his eyes. “Friends, right?”

Atsumu bites his bottom lip. “We’re holding hands, though.”

Sakusa hums, showing no intention of letting up on his grip.

“You’ve been weird.” He points out, leaning forward to properly rest his cheek on Sakusa’s shoulder, staring curiously. “You’ve been weirdly broody fer someone who just won a game.”

Sakusa hums again, his eyes still closed, head tilted back against the back of the couch. Atsumu stares at the two moles above his eyebrow.

God, the lighting here made him look _holy._

“Did something happen?” He asks, making sure his voice is low enough for only Sakusa to hear. Not that the others would hear, anyway. 

Bokuto and Hinata are doing their rendition of Livin’ La Vida Loca. It’s strangely impressive.

It feels like forever before he blinks his eyes open, although in reality it’s probably mere seconds. 

Sakusa’s gaze is stubbornly trained on the ceiling when he speaks. “Atsumu?”

Atsumu’s heart skips a beat. 

The only times he’d ever called him by his given name was whenever they were… 

“Yeah?”

“I wanna go home.” He declares and he sounds so _tired_. 

Atsumu doesn’t know how to explain it, doesn’t understand where it’s coming from, exactly. But it scares him. 

“You can go.” Atsumu assures him, squeezing his hand. “They’ll be fine with it. I’ll make up some excuse for ya.”

Sakusa turns his head, finally properly meeting his gaze. “I meant with you.”

Atsumu feels a tiny explosion go off in the pits of his stomach. 

Welp. There goes half his common sense.

He has to hold on really fucking tightly to the remaining half now.

“Omi,” He starts, in an almost scolding tone, “We’ve had a few drinks, if you wanna… do something like that, I don’t think we should be making that decision while we’re—“

“I don’t fucking mean it like _that.”_ Sakusa groans, sounding exasperated, “Just… can we please just go home?”

It takes a minute for the hidden meaning in his words to sink in but when they do, Atsumu softens. 

This wasn’t just another momentary lapse in judgement born out of horniness and loneliness. 

Sakusa was simply asking for his company. 

“Okay, Omi-Omi.” Atsumu whispers, pressing a barely there kiss to his shoulder, feeling the need to comfort him for some reason. “Okay.”

They find themselves in their living room, sprawled across the couch, each of them holding onto a bottle of beer. Atsumu has his legs resting on top of Sakusa’s lap, laying his head on the arm rest. Sakusa focuses on chugging his beer, his free arm resting on top of Atsumu’s legs, running his hand up and down his leg hair. 

It’s weirdly intimate.

Atsumu finds it suspicious that none of their teammates had even tried to make them stay when he’d told them they were leaving. If anything, they were practically pushing them out the door. He’ll have to interrogate them tomorrow. 

But for now...

They’d been here, sitting in this exact position, drinking their beers in total silence for at least twenty minutes now. 

It’s not an uncomfortable silence. After being roommates for several months, their silences are at a point where they’re always comfortable, so that’s not the problem. 

It’s that Atsumu doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing here. Was he supposed to be comforting him? Giving him advice? Speaking words of wisdom… let it be dot mp3? 

“This is nice ‘n all,” Atsumu starts, wiggling his toes, “But I’m kinda dyin’ of curiosity here, Omi. So before I fall asleep with ya touchin’ my legs like that, I gotta ask… Are you alright?”

Atsumu notices that Sakusa looks properly drunk now. The man can barely open his eyes. And yet, he _still_ looked gorgeous. That’s how you know you’re fucked.

“Not really.”

Atsumu’s shocked by the honesty. He always expected Sakusa to be the type of guy who had his shit together even when he was wasted. 

“Why not?” He asks, lowering his beer bottle, the bottom of it pressing against his stomach, the cold seeping into his skin.

Sakusa seems to mull it over, one hand clutching his beer so tightly that Atsumu sees the tips of his fingers turn white, his other hand tracing patterns on his leg. 

“A part of me,” Sakusa begins, blinking blearily, his words slightly slurred, “A part of me really wants to just… talk about it. You know? I wanna get it out there, so it doesn’t feel like this _weight_ inside me.”

Atsumu nods, silently encouraging him.

“But the other part of me,” He continues, the fingers against his skin pausing in their ministrations, “doesn’t want to say it out loud, because then it’ll feel too real… and too much.”

Atsumu thinks about it, the way he’s been thinking about it all these years, if he’s being honest. He thinks about how exactly he can help this person who doesn’t know how to help himself or how to let others help him.

He hates to even think about it, but at times like these, he turns to _Solution:_ _WWSD._

_What Would Samu Do?_

He pictures his brother’s face, searches his memories of past conversations in times of trial and what his brother would always tell him whenever he… _Oh._

He has it. 

“Omi,” Atsumu says, sitting up so abruptly that Sakusa jumps a little, “I have an idea.”

“No.” Sakusa grumbles, “You never have any good ideas.”

“Well, technically, it would be Samu’s idea but-”

“Oh, then okay. What idea?”

 _“Wow.”_ Atsumu huffs, looking genuinely betrayed. “Okay, rude?”

“What’s the idea?” Sakusa presses, head lolling to the side, tiredly. It’s stupidly adorable.

“How ‘bout you tell me all about it in third person? In story form?” Atsumu asks, reaching out to set his beer bottle down on the coffee table. “When Samu and I were kids and we needed to tell each other somethin’ that felt too embarrassing or lame, we’d go like, _so I know this guy…”_

Sakusa snorts. “That’s stupid.”

“It is.” Atsumu agrees. “But it works better than ya’d think.”

When Sakusa still looks hesitant, Atsumu decides to take matters into his own hands. If he wants the man to open up, well then, he’s just gonna have to show him that it’s a safe place to do it. 

He’ll have to do it first.

“Well, _I_ know this guy,” Atsumu says conversationally, “He’s really cool, really good-looking, and is _much_ better than his twin brother.”

“Wow, I already hate this guy.” Sakusa deadpans, but the hint of a smile on his face tells Atsumu otherwise.

“He may be the perfect picture of confidence ‘n sex appeal now, but just a few years ago, he was kind of a hot mess.” He exhales, resting his chin on his hand, “Fer awhile there… he thought there was truly somethin’ wrong with him.”

Atsumu half expects Sakusa to mock him as he always does, say something like, _there’s a lot wrong with you,_ but he doesn’t. He seems to realize that Atsumu’s trying to bare his soul here.

“Growin’ up, he had a bunch of crushes, pretty boys, pretty girls, but he never had the nerve to do anything about it. ‘Cause he knew a lot of people didn’t really understand who he was ‘n he was scared that he’d be shunned.” 

Sakusa squeezes his leg lightly in an attempt to comfort.

Atsumu gives him a reassuring smile. “S’funny now because now he doesn’t really care at all anymore, but back then it bothered him. I think the only reason he never broke was because he had his brother ‘n his parents backin’ him up. And then he had volleyball ‘n his team. After that, he was set fer life. Not everyone’s so lucky, though, right? He knows that.”

“He had his first boyfriend when he was fourteen ‘n it was a secret. Only lasted a coupla months. Whenever things got too sexual, he’d panic ‘n be like, I’m not ready. I think he felt like doin’ anything like that would make it too real, y’know? Plus, back then, he was kinda insecure about his belly.”

Sakusa chuckles softly. “He had one?”

Atsumu nods, gravely. “He worked real hard to get rid of it, actually.”

The smile on Sakusa’s face is so gentle it almost makes him cry. “It was probably cute.”

“Shut up.” Atsumu mumbles, struggling to hide his blush. “Anyway, it doesn’t last long ‘n he realizes he didn’t really like this guy _that_ much anyway. So, it ends. And then a year later, he’s in a volleyball match against a real strong team ‘n sees a really fuckin’ pretty boy on the other side of the net.”

The expression on Sakusa’s face is hard to read.

“He can’t keep his fuckin’ eyes off him.” Atsumu whispers, reverently, like it’s a secret. “Hasn’t been able to since.”

“He’s an idiot.” Sakusa says under his breath.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Atsumu sighs. “But he can’t really help it, can he? So, he meets this guy, right? This broody, gorgeous, pretentious sunnofa--”

_“Hey.”_

Atsumu giggles. “He meets him and… it’s almost instant. It’s like he knows right away that he’s gonna be someone special to him, y’know? It’s so weird. D’ya think it’s weird?”

Sakusa purses his lips. “No.”

Atsumu smiles. “I thought so.”

“It gets so fuckin’ bad ‘cause he’s so _taken_ by him, y’know? And it doesn’t help that this pretty boy would look at him like…” Atsumu inhales, makes some big motion with his arms, “.... like he was _wanted._ He looked at him like he couldn’t stand him, but couldn’t stay away from him.”

The grip Sakusa has on his leg tightens.

“And when they start talking… like, _really_ talking, the boy realizes he thinks he’s found someone he doesn’t mind lettin’ in. In more ways than one.” Atsumu winks, earning muted laughter from the other. 

“But when he lets him in, he gets pushed back out… and that hurts. It hurts a fuckin’ lot. So, he’s just stuck on this guy for so long, for a reason that he doesn’t even understand himself. And after the guy pisses him off in a bathroom, he starts lookin’ for anybody to keep him warm, to prove that this pretty curly haired boy wasn’t all that special… but as it turns out, he is. He’s real fuckin’ special. It’s been six years of him being special to him, fer what it’s worth.”

“And he just really believes they could be somethin’ really good, _really fucking good_ , if they just… took a _chance_ .” Atsumu finishes, looking at Sakusa like he’s begging for something, “If he just… helped him _understand_.”

Sakusa gulps, his pupils shake, and his hands tremble as he sets his beer down onto the table. He brings them together in an attempt to make the shaking stop. 

“My story isn't fun.” He admits.

“I’m not expecting it to be.” Atsumu retorts.

Sakusa’s hands don’t stop shaking. Atsumu winces at the sight.

“If… if it’s too hard, ya don’t need to force yerself right away-”

Sakusa seems to deliberate something in his head for a moment, before he decidedly reaches out, laying his hand on Atsumu’s lap, palm up. 

Atsumu takes a little too long staring at it. 

Sakusa’s fingers twitch. “Are you gonna hold my fucking hand or not?”

Atsumu kinda likes honest Sakusa. 

He bites back a fond smile as he lays his hand on top of his, squeezing it comfortingly.

Sakusa lets out a long breath and Atsumu can tell he’s relieved.

“I know a guy,” He begins, his grip on Atsumu’s hand already tightening. “He’s… a _liar.”_

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be fine.

“His parents were raised to believe in one thing and so he was raised the same. That’s all it ever really was. They were only ever doing what they’d been taught to do, what they believed was right. Because they loved their only son so much.” 

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be fine.

“In school, he learns that God loves all, that he is forgiving, that he does not judge, that he does not close his doors on anyone who is good. But, he also learns that none of that applies to you when you’re gay.” He snorts in a way that lacks any humor, “It didn’t matter that much at first. He was a kid, what the hell did he know? So, gay people go to hell. So, God didn’t like them. So, his parents didn’t like them. He didn’t really get it, but what’d that have to do with him?”

“It’s not until he turns fifteen that it starts to matter. He’s fifteen and he’s in this volleyball game… and he sees this cocky mustard haired bastard across the volleyball net and suddenly it has _everything_ to do with him.”

Atsumu’s grip around his hand tightens impossibly.

“And so, he’s scared. Fucking terrified. And he does everything in his power to hide it, to change it, make it go away. He tries everything he can think of. He prays, ten times a day. He watches all the movies and all the porn the boys in his school rave about. He gets a girlfriend and dates her for a year, tolerates the touching, the kissing, pretends and tries to believe that he can live his entire life _tolerating._ He lies. He lies to everyone and he lies to himself. Because it’s all he can do.”

“He comes out to his cousin. He cries. He turns sixteen. A boy on the news commits suicide because he’s gay. He goes to a training camp. He rooms with the entire reason any of this began in the fucking first place. He cracks. Because the boy is… he’s too much. He looks at him and it’s electric. He touches him and it’s _searing._ He talks to him, he lets him in, he unintentionally breaks through the walls he’d spent so long building, and _that_ night… he feels like he’s being welcomed home _.”_

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be fine. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“You see, the thing is, this guy is smart. At least, he thought he was. So, when he was fifteen and realized that this was the situation he was going to be in, he’d started planning. He’d study hard, get the best possible grades, be the best possible volleyball player, be the best at whatever the fuck he could be the best at. He always listened, never talked back, never got sick, never asked for anything. He thought maybe, just maybe, if he did all that, then being gay wouldn’t matter that much.”

“When he’s sixteen, a distant cousin comes out as gay. He reveals that he’s been with his boyfriend for five years. His cousin’s a doctor. He was an honor student his whole life. He graduated magna cum laude. His parents bragged about him on Facebook all the damn time. He came out as gay. And suddenly… suddenly, he just wasn’t family anymore. To _any_ of them. Just like that. Like it was so easy to do.”

The breath he lets out is shaky. Atsumu rubs his thumb over the back of his hand, back and forth, back and forth. Sakusa focuses on the motion.

“And he realizes it doesn’t matter how hard he tries. Once his parents find out, it’s over. And so, he lies. He keeps lying. He gets another girlfriend. Tries again, even when he knows it’d never work. He spends the next few years lying, hiding this part of himself that he’d only ever said out loud to three people when he’s been alive for twenty two years and has known for seven of them. He realizes that he just can’t let go of the boy he’d seen across the volleyball net at fifteen because these days, he looks at that same boy across their living room and feels the exact same thing… except it’s heightened to the fucking millionth degree.”

“And he’s just so fucking _exhausted._ He’s so fucking tired of hiding, of lying, of carrying this stupid weight inside him, but it’s all he’s ever done. It’s all he knows how to do. And he looks at this boy, this stupidly _beautiful_ boy and wants him so badly, but can’t stop thinking of the cost. And he wonders, what the hell is he supposed to do? Give up his family for happiness? Will he be happier without them? How can he be sure of that?”

In and out. In and out. In and out. Don’t fucking cry. Don’t. _Don’t._

“And it sounds stupid, right? It’s stupid. Why is he worrying so much when he shouldn’t be putting up with people who’d shun him for being who he is? For loving who he loves? For something he can’t fucking help? He’s not that helpless fifteen year old kid anymore, living under their roof, living under their protection. He’s twenty two and he’s a working adult, paying the bills, living his fucking dream, and he worked damn hard to get there. He doesn’t need his parents anymore. He can support himself without them. Why should it matter anymore, if they cut him off? Wouldn’t it be okay for him to be selfish? Shouldn’t it be okay now, at this point, to let himself be with someone he’s wanted for _seven years?”_

_Breathe._

“A friend once told him that if someone stops loving you for who you are, then maybe they didn’t truly love you in the first place.” 

_Breathe, Sakusa Kiyoomi._

“His parents used to tuck him in every night before bed, you know? His mother used to always read him bedtime stories. His father used to play volleyball with him in their backyard, even when his back hurt. They took care of him whenever he was sick. They never minded that he didn’t always like being touched. They framed all his certificates, displayed all his medals, and went to every game they could. They always told him they loved him, they do even now, embarrassingly. And he keeps wondering, if he stops lying to them… will they stop lying too?” 

He looks up and finally faces Atsumu, voice breaking against his will when he asks, _“Is it so bad for him to just want them to keep lying?”_

 _“Fuck.”_ Atsumu chokes out a sob, scrambling to get as close as he can, practically sitting on Sakusa’s lap as he throws his arms around him. 

He cradles Sakusa’s head into his chest, cries like it’s the end of the fucking world, cries like he’s doing it in his place, pressing kisses to the top of his hair. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

When Sakusa exhales, it comes out as a full bodied shudder. 

He decides to allow himself this one moment of weakness, just this once, as he sinks into the embrace, sliding his arms around Atsumu’s waist and holding on tight. He closes his eyes, breathes in, and buries his face into the comforting warmth.

Atsumu can’t seem to stop weeping. Sakusa’s chest fucking hurts.

“What the hell are you crying so hard for, Miya?” He asks, forcing out a watery chuckle, “He’s just some guy I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

It takes a long while for Atsumu to stop hiccuping. 

At this point, Sakusa’s sobered up considerably and he'd resorted to running his fingers through Atsumu’s hair in what he hoped was a calming way. 

Atsumu sniffles again, staring at Sakusa pitifully, his eyes completely swollen. 

Sakusa can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Tell me why the hell _I’m_ the one comforting _you_ right now.”

“I don’t _knooooooow,”_ Atsumu whines, looking a second away from bursting into tears again, “I’m terrible at this! I’m soooorry, Omi!” 

Sakusa laughs again, a burst of fondness blooming in his chest. 

He reaches out his free hand to wipe one of Atsumu’s tear streaked cheeks with his thumb. “Hopeless.”

Atsumu is still half on Sakusa, legs thrown over his lap, Sakusa’s one arm wrapped around him to keep him stable. 

_Friends._

Who the fuck have they been trying to kid aside from themselves?

They weren’t just friends. They’d never been just friends.

“Atsumu,” Sakusa says, voice suddenly turning solemn again, “Why _are_ you crying?”

The boy takes a deep breath, gathering himself, before abruptly raising both his hands and sandwiching Sakusa’s face between them. Sakusa makes a tiny noise of discomfort as Atsumu squeezes.

“Is it so bad for me to cry for you, Omi-kun? Huh?” Atsumu glares, “Is it so bad that I don’t like thinkin’ about you hurting?”

The urge to cry may have left Atsumu, but it seems to transfer to Sakusa. He swallows the lump in his throat.

He gives himself a moment to study the boy’s face. 

He looked… terrible. Atsumu’s nose was obviously stuffy, his lips looked chapped, there were obvious tear streaks all over his face, his eyes were red and swollen, and don’t even get him _started_ on the oily, unkempt hair. 

The hands holding onto his face… _Wow,_ they really are calloused. 

God. He’s perfect.

“Omi?” Atsumu says his name like it’s precious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sakusa raises his hands, takes hold of Atsumu’s wrists, holds onto them like a lifeline. 

He leans forward and kisses him. 

It’s not rough or unpracticed, it’s not frantic or rushed, instead, it’s gentle and sincere while still being every bit as desperate as it always was.

And it only takes Atsumu half a second of being frozen in place, just half, before he melts into it with a relieved sigh, closing his eyes, his hold on Sakusa’s face laxing, rubbing his thumbs against his cheeks.

Sakusa pulls away slightly, leaves another quick peck, then another, tilting his head to press a kiss against his cheek, then his neck, before burying his face in the juncture between Atsumu’s neck and shoulder.

They hold each other for a long time, hands caressing each other’s backs, Atsumu’s hand in his hair, calming.

“What was that for?” Atsumu whispers against the shell of his ear.

Sakusa shivers, his hold on him tightening. “Just because.”

“Omi,” Atsumu’s grip on his shirt stiffens. “Yer killin’ me here.” He says and it sounds pained.

He keeps thinking, _just friends. They said they’d just be friends. Just friends._

_Just friends. Just friends. Just-_

“Atsumu.”

“Yeah?”

“Sleep with me.” Sakusa says, lifting his head to look him in the eye, so that Atsumu knows he means it. It’s not the alcohol. It’s not a sudden rush of courage or a bout of loneliness. He isn’t talking out of his dick. He means it. 

He _needs_ it.

Atsumu’s eyes widen, examining every inch of Sakusa’s face, and he can tell that Atsumu understands. He can tell that Atsumu can tell. 

_“Please.”_ Sakusa whispers, voice quivering, pressing their foreheads together, running an unsteady hand over Atsumu’s cheek, closing his eyes. _“Please.”_

Sakusa thinks he feels liquid against his fingers but he doesn’t get the chance to check if Atsumu’s crying again because suddenly they’re kissing again. 

Atsumu whimpers into his mouth and Sakusa can’t tell what kind it is. The crying kind or the turned on kind. Maybe both. 

“Are you sure?” Atsumu asks, pressing a soft kiss to Sakusa’s jaw. 

Sakusa doesn’t hesitate this time. Not this time. He tilts his head, as if giving Atsumu permission. “I’m sure.”

It’s nothing like how things were when they were sixteen. It’s nothing like how things were a few months ago in the shower. 

Everything, every movement, every press of lips against skin, fingers searching for warmth, were filled with a yearning, an intense want, every single feeling of the past seven years, rushing out of them in full force. It burns. 

It feels violent.

But their hold on each other stays gentle. As if they’re scared to break the moment. As if they’re scared to break each other.

It’s Atsumu who stands first, leads them to his bedroom, lightly pushes Sakusa down onto the bed, keeps his gaze trained on him, as if scared that he’d disappear right before his eyes if he closed them.

It’s Sakusa who grabs onto his arms, touches every part of his body, kisses any part of him he could reach, as if terrified that he’d go somewhere he couldn’t reach if he stopped.

“Atsumu,” Sakusa moans against his mouth, “About what I said six years ago,”

“Please don’t talk about sixteen year old us when we’re about to have sex.” Atsumu begs, grinding against Sakusa’s thigh.

“I changed my mind.” Sakusa finishes.

Atsumu freezes. He raises his head, looks into Sakusa’s eyes. “Huh?”

“I said I’d top back then.” Sakusa clarifies, running a hand through Atsumu’s hair. 

Atsumu’s hands clench into fists against the sheets. _Dear God._

Sakusa’s voice shakes but it does not falter as he breathes, “I want you to fuck me.”

Blood rushes directly into Atsumu’s groin at an alarming speed but the cogs in his brain go on overdrive, wondering, _is this okay?_

When Sakusa senses the hesitation in him, he pushes himself up, kisses Atsumu long and hard, putting every bit of how he felt in it. 

When he pulls away, he repeats, “I want this. I want you.”

_Fuck._

“Wanted you for so long,” Sakusa repeats, like a prayer almost, “So fucking long. _Please,”_ He’s saying that word a lot tonight. “I’m not below begging right now.”

There’s something enchanting about watching someone who’d only ever been so closed off, so rough, so hard to read, just completely surrender.

Sakusa surrenders.

Atsumu decides to catch him.

“I won’t make you beg, Omi,” Atsumu assures him, pressing the tips of their noses together, “But yer gonna need to understand something about tonight.”

He slowly runs a hand down Sakusa’s cheek, down to his chest, fingers lightly brushing against his stomach, his cock, slithering down to the space between his legs. Sakusa opens them instinctively.

“I won’t be fucking you.” He says and Sakusa knows it’s a promise. “I’ll be making love to you.”

Atsumu doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.

They go slow. They go really fucking slow because Atsumu hadn’t done this in awhile and Sakusa hadn’t done this, _ever._ But because of it, they feel everything. Every single little thing.

Atsumu relearns that night what he already knew at age fifteen. Sakusa Kiyoomi was beauty embodied. Sakusa Kiyoomi was art itself.

The arch in his back when Atsumu curls his fingers against that glorious spot, the veins in his neck when he throws his head back hard against the pillows, the sounds he’s capable of making when he lets them tumble out of his lips unrestrained.

“God,” Atsumu could fucking cry, “God, Omi, you’re beautiful.”

It feels like it lasts both a second and a lifetime. Atsumu keeps his pace slow, savoring every feeling, every taste, every sound, every quiver, like a man who’d found a well in a desert. He slides in and out, watches as Sakusa takes him like he’s made to. 

He watches Sakusa unravel beneath him, completely, his legs wide open, his sex drunk eyes trained on him, clinging onto him, leaving nothing hidden. 

_“Atsumu,”_ He moans brokenly, “I’m gonna fucking come… _make me come.”_

When he finally does, his entire body shakes, his grip on Atsumu so tight he knows it’s going to leave nail marks. 

He comes with his name on his lips. He says it like it’s holy. Like it’s the only word he knows. _Atsumu._

When Atsumu comes only seconds later, it’s with his face buried in Sakusa’s shoulder, biting down, earning a spent whimper. 

They don’t know how much time passes by the time they come back down from their high, how much time passes before Atsumu starts cleaning them up, before collapsing back onto Sakusa’s chest.

For what feels like two lifetimes, they don’t move. They stay lying there, Sakusa limp under Atsumu, a lazy finger stroking circles on his back. Atsumu’s face snuggled into his neck, his nose pressed against his jaw. 

“Please,” Atsumu whispers, reaching out a hand to caress Sakusa’s cheek the way he did all those years ago, “Please don’t disappear on me in the morning.”

Sakusa stays quiet. His finger doesn’t stop tracing patterns against his skin.

“Please,” Atsumu begs again, pushing his face deeper into his warm skin, breathing in, “Yer gonna break me if you do, Omi-Omi.”

  
  


When Atsumu wakes up to a pounding headache alone in his bed, he can’t exactly say he’s surprised. In fact, he has flashbacks to a very similar morning from years ago. 

He fights back the urge to throw a tantrum. He takes a deep breath. 

He thinks, _drink some fuckin’ water before you start having a grand meltdown._

He opens his bedroom door and he’s greeted with the smell of something cooking.

_Wait._

He blinks blearily, trying to make sure this wasn’t a hangover illusion of some sort, and his eyes focus on a shirtless Sakusa wearing his pink apron with cats on it, making him breakfast.

“Omi-kun?” He calls out, still suspicious that this wasn’t some elaborate prank.

Sakusa’s shoulders tense for a moment. 

They slowly relax, as he slightly turns to acknowledge him. He grunts. 

“Do you like your eggs runny?”

 _Oh god,_ Atsumu thinks. Oh god, he’s gonna cry.

Atsumu stumbles his way to him, as fast as he can without tripping, before enveloping him in a tight embrace, pressing his now wet face to Sakusa’s bare back.

“What the fuck,” Sakusa says, taken aback, letting go of the pan’s handle to free one of his hands to hold onto Atsumu’s grip around his stomach, “Atsumu, don’t fucking _cry.”_

Atsumu only tightens his hold. 

“Thanks for stayin'.” He says against his skin. 

Sakusa pauses. “I’m still scared, just so you know.”

“I know. Me too.”

“I’ll be hard to love sometimes. Actually, I am that, a lot of the time.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m stubborn and difficult to be with.”

“So am I.”

“We might fight a lot. We might break up in the future.”

“I’m sorry to tell ya that that’s _all_ relationships, Omi.”

“I… I still won’t be able to tell my parents. I’m not out, not like you.”

“I know that too.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? You’ve been out for so long and now you have to hide again.”

“I understand, Omi.” He says and it sounds so goddamn earnest. “I _understand.”_

Sakusa bites his bottom lip, staring at the two eggs he’s cooking.

“It’s just that it’s been seven years.” He says, “I just want to know that I at least _tried.”_

Atsumu sniffs, lifting his face to rest his chin on Sakusa’s shoulder. “That’s all I ask.” 

Sakusa turns his head, pressing a quick peck to his lips. 

“Runny.” Atsumu finally says, looking at the pan. “I like them runny.”

Sakusa stares, unimpressed at Atsumu’s hungover post-cry morning look. “So do I, apparently.”

“Rude, Omi-Omi!” Atsumu accuses huffily, “Rude!”

Sakusa bites back a smile. 

__

**Sakusa Kiyoomi, sent 3:47 am**

I wanna be with him. I’m gonna be with him. I don’t know where it’ll lead but I have to try. I can’t live the rest of my life not knowing what would’ve happened. I know it’s gonna be hard. But I think if it’s with him, it’ll be okay.

**Yachi Hitoka, sent 7:32 am**

I am so proud of you. So proud. Be happy. Be the happiest ever!

😙😙😙😙😙😙😙

**Komori Motoya, sent 10:53 am**

i’ll have you know that i’m crying my fucking eyes out

[Komori Motoya sent a video]

😭😘 i love u bro

**Sakusa Kiyoomi, sent 12:01 pm**

Gross.

❤️

  
  


**_T MINUS 1 HOUR AND 13 MINUTES TO THE WEDDING_ **

Once Sakusa remembers that he might sweat through his tux if he keeps up with all this nervous pacing, he forces himself to sit down and just… _breathe._

He’s not even sure why exactly he’s so nervous. He _wants_ to get married. He thinks about spending the rest of his life with Atsumu and he’s sure of his decision. (“Tsumu’s a fuckin’ headache. Are ya sure, Omi-kun?” “Unfortunately.”) 

Plus, it’s a small wedding. What does he have to be nervous about? 

(Other than the fact that he’s basically signing Atsumu off to a lifetime with him and he still has this irrational fear that he’ll one day realize that he can do _way_ better and Sakusa’s too much of a handful and—)

He turns to the nearby dresser and finds the box of onigiri Osamu had given him earlier, saying it’s not from his shop, but from his parents. 

Sakusa walks towards it, picks up the box and wonders if there’s a saying that it’s bad luck to eat snacks before your wedding. Should he search it up?

He opens the box and finds a card sitting on top of the wrapped rice balls. 

_Kiyoomi,_

_This day must be both the happiest and hardest day to go through for you. Know that you now have a family in us, no matter what. You’ve loved Atsumu sincerely. For that, we will be grateful to you for the rest of our lives. Thank you for being brave, our son. We’ll see you outside!_

_\- Your parents in law_

Damn.

He rubs his eyes furiously, ruining his perfect makeup.

Sorry, Osamu. Looks like no one’s gonna have their shit together walking down the aisle today. 

  
  


**_T MINUS 4 YEARS BEFORE THE WEDDING_ **

“Omi,” Atsumu coos, massaging his scalp, “Are ya gonna fall asleep? We can move to the bed now, y’know. The show’s over.”

Sakusa groans, turning around to bury his face in Atsumu’s shirt. “No moving.”

He’s answered with a fond laugh as Atsumu lets go of his hair and slides his hand down to pat his back. “C’mon, ya big baby, time for bed.”

“M’not a baby.” Sakusa grumbles against the fabric of his shirt, before reaching his arm out to paw at Atsumu’s wrist, leading it back to his head. “Pat.”

“The boyfriend said, exactly like a big baby.” Atsumu teases, before combing his fingers through Sakusa’s locks.

He’s rewarded with a soft sigh.

If Sakusa knew this would be the pay off for getting his shit together and saying _fuck it,_ he would’ve done it a lot earlier. 

He never really understood what the big deal was about romance and never really thought he needed it when he had his two best friends and his team. He received enough (excess) unwanted affection from people to last a lifetime. 

But, _wow._

Ever since they’d started dating, it’s like he’s been floating on a goddamn cloud. What was it about having Atsumu right next to him whenever he woke up in the morning that made him feel so invincible? 

(Sakusa’s bed is bigger so Atsumu has completely abandoned his own room in favor of disturbing him every single night. Not that he could complain.)

Atsumu can’t cook for shit but he can make some mean onigiri, thanks to Osamu. He has terrible memory, but he memorizes exactly how Sakusa likes his coffee. He steals his shirts way too often, but he looks better in them anyway, so Sakusa lets him. 

There’s something comforting about reaching out and knowing there’s a hand you can hold anytime. There’s something comforting about being able to look at him, feel the urge to kiss him, be able to do it, and not need a reason for it. He could kiss him, just because. Hold him, just because. 

He’d been tired all his life. And now, he had someone he didn’t mind being tired around. 

Plus—

“Hey,” Atsumu says, leaning down to talk directly into his ear, “If ya get up now… it’s your turn to top tonight.”

There’s _that_ bonus.

Sakusa stands abruptly. “What the hell are you doing just sitting there then?”

Atsumu’s smile is almost animalistic.

Months ago, when all this had just started, one of the few things established was that their relationship would be kept on the downlow. Ideally, for Sakusa, it would’ve just been Komori and Yachi. And for Atsumu, obviously, he’d have to tell Osamu and by extension, Suna. There was also Kita, which Sakusa was hesitant about, but Atsumu was insistent because according to him, Kita is God and if he didn’t hear it from him, he’d find out anyway. 

Sakusa didn’t even wanna get into the context of that.

Atsumu also wanted to tell his parents and Sakusa had heard too much about how great they were for it to be a problem. 

And then, of course, there was the MSBY Black Jackals.

They figured their team should probably know, considering they lived in one building and they spent more time with them than anyone else. Plus, it wasn’t like they’d react badly. Hell, they knew they’d probably be the happiest out of everyone. 

The Jackals _would’ve_ been included in the discussion.

If they weren’t known to have such big, loud mouths. (See: Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shoyo)

So, they didn’t tell them which was a mistake on their part, honestly. Because they would’ve found out either way, sooner or later. 

And that came in the form of… _Well._

“Omi, are ya sure?” Atsumu pants, while already shimmying out of his volleyball shorts and underwear, “What if someone walks in?”

“We have the gym to ourselves every fucking night, no one’s gonna walk in.” He argues, reaching behind Atsumu to massage his ass cheeks.

Sakusa would come to blame Atsumu for making him feel so overly adventurous that night. There is no one else to blame for turning Sakusa’s sex drive into that of a teenage boy who’d gotten his first taste of a prostate orgasm. 

Which, in a lot of ways, he kind of was.

“Sit back.” Sakusa commands, pushing Atsumu to sit down on the adjustable weight bench. “And hold your legs open.”

Atsumu makes a questioning noise but does what he’s told, leaning against the back pad, holding himself open by the back of his thighs. “Isn’t it my turn to fuck you?”

“We’re not fucking here.” Sakusa scoffs.

Atsumu makes an affronted noise, looking at Sakusa like he’s been betrayed.

“Well, unless _you_ brought lube to the gym.”

Atsumu’s face turns sour. 

_“Fine._ What _are_ you doing then?” He asks, as Sakusa starts to sink to his knees, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of Atsumu’s thigh.

“Wanted to do this for a while now.” He explains, pressing another kiss but this time to Atsumu’s puckered hole, making the boy hiss. “Can I eat you out?”

Sakusa swears that Atsumu’s pupils dilate as he sucks in a breath. 

Sakusa is very well aware of the fact that Atsumu really, _really_ liked getting his ass eaten. They’ve talked about it a few times and Sakusa had been down there before, though never for long, usually just to help prepare him.

Ever since he’d heard about that story of Atsumu getting his ass eaten by _someone else_ and getting caught, he decided he’d save something special like that for a later time. 

And well, Sakusa thinks, softly rubbing Atsumu’s entrance with his thumb, _here they are._

 _“Fuck,”_ Atsumu swears heartily, throwing his head back, his fingers digging into his thighs, “Yer really gonna fuckin’ kill me one o’ these days, baby.” 

“Is that a yes?” Sakusa smirks.

“Yeah, _shit,_ Omi,” Atsumu breathes out, lifting his head up to look him in the eye, as he reaches down and spreads his ass cheeks readily, “Get yer fuckin’ tongue on me _now.”_

“Patience.” Sakusa scolds, pressing his thumb down a little harder, rubbing in small circles, eyes trained on Atsumu. 

The breath that comes out of his half open mouth is shaky, but he keeps eye contact, and Sakusa notes the way he already looks sex drunk when he’s barely gotten started.

“God, Atsumu, I don’t think I’m ever gonna get tired of you.”

It comes out of him before he even realizes what he’s saying. Sakusa is a little shocked at himself, but Atsumu looks worse for wear. 

He _fully_ blushes and that’s what makes him turn his head away, as if shying from the words.

“Shaddup, what the _hell.”_

Sakusa literally has his face planted in front of the man’s asshole and still he can look him straight into the eye and say, _put your tongue in me,_ but God _forbid_ Sakusa genuinely compliment him. 

He chuckles lightly.

“I fuckin’ hate ya, y’know that?” Atsumu gasps, squirming as Sakusa continues rubbing circles against his rim, using his free hand to stroke his cock to full mast, pressing butterfly kisses to both his thighs. “You’ve conditioned me. Y’know how weird it is to get hard every time yer boyfriend calls ya by yer first name?”

Sakusa doesn’t honor that with a verbal response. 

Instead, he ducks down and presses one last kiss to his hole, before he wraps his arms around Atsumu’s thighs, and licks.

Atsumu gasps, his entire body stiffening as Sakusa tries not to smile, instead, licking a little firmer, and he feels his hole clench against his tongue.

Atsumu’s grip on his own thighs loosen, noticing that Sakusa already has their stability covered, as shaky hands reach out to hold onto Sakusa’s wrists instead, tight in a deathgrip as the man gets into a steady pace of licking. 

“Fuck,” Atsumu whimpers, eyes slowly closing as he immerses himself in the feeling, “Fuck, yeah, like that,”

“Do you think you can come like this?” Sakusa asks, circling his hole with his tongue, “Without being touched?”

“I..” Atsumu chokes, voice breaking out into a moan. He nods frantically, instead. 

With that confirmation, Sakusa wastes no time. They’re in a fucking gym, after all. As hot as this all was, it wasn’t a place for this to be happening. There’s a vision in his head of someone next to them holding up a phone going, _IS THAT ALLOWED?_

Sakusa spreads Atsumu’s cheeks as far as they can go, diving in and going to work. He tries long, slow licks, fast licks, he makes circles on the outside, goes up and down, before sliding inside, stiffening his tongue, and then going back out. It’s almost like every single thing he does is making Atsumu go crazy.

His breathing goes ragged, as if he’s running a marathon, his nails digging into Sakusa’s wrists so hard that he’s a little scared it’ll draw blood. His chest moves up and down rapidly, as if trying to keep his breaths steady.

“Omi,” He calls out, and it comes out as a quaky exhale, “Flatten yer tongue a little…”

Sakusa complies with a hum, Atsumu rubbing his wrists with his thumbs encouragingly, “Then… start from the bottom ‘n lick all the way up—”

Sakusa gets the drift, doing what he’s told. 

_“Shit.”_ Atsumu swears from his chest, his back arching, head tilting back, as Sakusa keeps repeating the motion, over and over. 

His face contorts, eyebrows scrunching up, mouth hanging open. “Shit, _fuck,_ don’t stop.”

Sakusa doesn’t stop staring, doesn’t even wanna let himself blink as he keeps his eyes trained on Atsumu’s face. His eyes stayed closed, eyebrows furrowed.

He forgoes his grip on Sakusa’s wrists, one hand going up to pull at his curly hair, the other holding onto the edge of the weight bench. 

“Jus’ like that, Omi, _please, god,_ I’m close,” He slurs, his grip on the weight bench and Sakusa’s hair tight, as he pushes himself against the relentless tongue, rocking his hips in rhythm with its movement like he can’t help it. _“Shit,_ I’m…”

Suddenly, Sakusa feels Atsumu frantically push back the curly hair on his forehead, gripping it tightly and pulling. 

“Watch me come, Omi. Fuckin’ watch me _come—”_ He moans brokenly, his eyes squeezing closed, mouth opening into a silent scream.

He does.

Atsumu’s entire body goes taut, back arching, toes curling, his hole fluttering, head pressing against the back of the weight bench. Sakusa licks him through it, Atsumu weakly pushing against his tongue, fucking himself against it, until he’s so sensitive that he instinctively jerks away.

His grip on Sakusa’s hair weakens. He watches as Atsumu’s body just sinks into the bench, his legs falling back down, like a puppet that got its strings cut off. There’s come all over his stomach. 

Wow. Sakusa is so fucking hard.

“Fuck.” Atsumu exhales, reaching up to push his sweaty hair back. His eyes finally blink open, staring at Sakusa in disbelief. _“Fuck,_ that felt good. We should do that more. A _lot_ more.”

Sakusa chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of one of Atsumu’s thighs. They’re still shaking. “Seemed like it. Mind doing it for me one of these days?”

“Hell yeah, I will.” Atsumu says instantly. “I’ll blow yer fuckin’ mind.”

Sakusa smiles, abruptly lifting one of Atsumu’s legs over his shoulder, pressing one last lick against his rim, earning a surprised moan. 

_“Jesus,”_ Atsumu winces, “You _know_ I’m sensitive _,_ Omi, don’t—“

In that moment, three different things happen.

First, Sakusa is a dick, so he licks another stripe against his entrance.

Two, Atsumu is sensitive but he can’t help the way his hand reflexively pushes Sakusa’s head closer, with a half frustrated, half horny groan.

Three, the gym door slams open and Bokuto and Hinata walk in, one of them complaining about a missing hydro flask.

Four different pairs of eyes meet.

There’s a momentous silence that follows as the product of these three things.

“Oh my god.” Hinata mumbles, frozen in his spot. 

“Oh my god.” Bokuto repeats, similarly frozen.

Sakusa doesn’t know where to hide his face that doesn’t involve burying it between Atsumu’s thighs so he has no choice but to stay frozen. “Uh.”

It’s probably the worst for Atsumu who is in the worst possible position here. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god.” He buries his face in his hands.

“We’re gonna go.” Hinata squeaks out, motioning to the door with his thumb, hurriedly grabbing Bokuto by the wrist, pulling urgently, “Right, Bokuto-san? Who needs water? No one. We can… I don’t need the hydro flask. I’ll just…”

“We’ll buy a new one!” Bokuto agrees, turning around, “I will buy you a new one! For your birthday!”

“Oh my god.” Atsumu whines into his hands again.

As they walk back out the doors, Sakusa thinks he hears Bokuto ask, “He won’t give me a high five but he’ll stick his tongue in Tsum-Tsum’s _ass?”_

“Bokuto-san!” Hinata scolds, scandalizes, “They’ll hear you!”

The next morning, there seems to be an exchange of bills in the locker room. 

“I _told_ you they were already together!” Hinata exclaims proudly, looking smug, fanning himself with money. “I know gays in love when I see them!”

“I’m sorry we don’t _all_ have impeccable gaydar.” Meian pouts, slapping a wad of bills into Bokuto and Inunaki’s hands.

Oliver and Adriah sigh at the sides, albeit fondly. 

Atsumu gapes. “You _bet_ on our relationship?” 

“Just be grateful they told them they saw us kissing instead of the truth.” Sakusa whispers.

Atsumu bites his tongue. “Right.”

That concludes the story of how the MSBY Jackals find out Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi are dating, and by extension, so do the Schweiden Adlers (“Oh… I already told Kageyama, though.” “What?!” “I think he told Ushijima-san and Hoshiumi-san.” “Motherfucking Tobio.”) and Akaashi Keiji (“Was I not allowed to tell him? But he’s Keiji!” “God fucking damn it, Bokkun.”), before they can even last a year. 

  
  


**_T MINUS THREE YEARS BEFORE THE WEDDING_ **

“No, listen to this,” Atsumu insists, making big, dramatic motions with his hands, “Samu’s sayin’ he wants to change his menu up and experiment with new flavors ‘n shit but what am I supposed to do if he gets rid of fatty tuna?”

“You do know he’s your brother, right?” Sakusa deadpans through his toothbrush, leaning against the bathroom counter, “He is _literally_ your twin. You have the rest of your lives to ask him to cook you food, whenever you want. Your fatty tuna onigiri isn’t gonna disappear off the face of the Earth.”

“Yeah, but _still,”_ Atsumu complains, resting his elbows on his thighs, “It’s,” He winces for a second, and there’s a splash noise, before he continues talking. “It’s a good fuckin’ flavor, okay?”

Sakusa shrugs, turning the tap on and spitting toothpaste into the sink, as Atsumu starts cleaning himself before he flushes the toilet. 

He stands up and pulls his boxers back up.

Atsumu walks up behind Sakusa, resting a chin on his shoulder. “Ah, you always look so good in the mornings, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa gargles and spits, then makes a face at Atsumu through the mirror. “Wash your fucking hands, you idiot. I _told_ you not to eat the oysters.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Atsumu sighs, pushing against him to stick his hands under the running water, “They were good, though.”

They’re quiet for a few moments, until Atsumu turns his head with a sly smile. “Morning sex?”

Sakusa scrunches up his nose. 

“What?” Atsumu says, defensive, “It’s _my_ turn to top. ‘Sides, I’ll eat yer ass.”

Sakusa blinks.

“Okay.”

Atsumu beams, switching off the tap. “Yer always so easy.”

As they walk out the bathroom, Sakusa realizes something. 

Something very important, very weird, and very concerning.

“Atsumu.”

“Hm?” Atsumu hums without turning around, heading towards their bed. 

(They’ve turned Atsumu’s old bedroom into a guest room aka The Osamu Room, and bought a king sized bed for sharing. The perks of having money to spare. They love being Olympians.)

“I’m in love with you.”

Atsumu comes to a complete halt. 

He slowly turns around, faces Sakusa, expression unreadable. “Omi?”

“What?”

“You’ve never said that to me before.” Atsumu mumbles. He looks like he’s not really present in the world right now.

“Yeah.”

“We’ve been dating for almost two years.” Atsumu continues. “I say it to ya all the time.”

“You do.” Sakusa nods. He feels just as shell-shocked as Atsumu does. Probably.

“Why…” Atsumu blinks, looking like he’s about to burst into tears, “Why are ya saying it now?”

“Well, I just brushed my teeth next to you while you took a shit and I still really wanna have sex with you.”

“That’s a pretty good indication, yeah.” Atsumu laughs, tears finally falling, “Can ya kiss me and say it again?”

Sakusa closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around him, kissing him on the nose as he says, “I love you.”

Atsumu is crying in earnest now, hands reaching up to cup Sakusa’s face.

“I love you too.” He says, kissing him on the lips, “I love you so much. God, I’m gonna fuck the soul outta ya.”

Sakusa thinks back to all the years he’d spent feeling terrified, thinking he’d never be able to live his life and be happy, thinking he’d never get this, thinking nothing would be worth going to hell and losing his parents over.

He looks at the man in front of him and thinks, _this_ sure is. 

This is worth it.

“I love you.” He repeats against Atsumu’s lips, “I love you.” He makes up for the years he’s wasted not saying it.

The smile on his face is something Sakusa knows he’ll keep in his memory and cherish for the rest of his life. 

Miya Atsumu can drag him head first straight into hell, for all he cares. It’s worth it.

  
  


**_T MINUS TWO YEARS BEFORE THE WEDDING_ **

“Samu,” Atsumu slurs, drunkenly leaning against his brother’s side, smushing his cheek against his shoulder, “I ain’t bein’ unreasonable, am I?”

Osamu’s annoyed, as he always is as long as Atsumu is concerned, but he also can’t help but empathize. 

For someone who’s been out for most of his life, it must be really fucking jarring to suddenly have to be back in the closet. If it were up to Atsumu, he’d probably be parading his boyfriend around the streets, holding his hand and kissing him in restaurants, fans and press be damned. Atsumu never did care about all that. The whole reason they both came out so early in life was so they didn’t _have_ to do all that.

“I’m happy, I _am,”_ Atsumu presses, and it’s the hundredth time he’s said that tonight, as if trying to convince himself, “I love him, Samu. It’s almost insane how much.”

“I know.” Osamu says. “I know that.”

Oh, does he. He’s been the victim of more than one late night phone call or impromptu drinking session that’s spent listening to his brother rant about how sweet Sakusa Kiyoomi is behind closed doors. 

He also knows way more about their preferences in bed than he wished he did. 

Osamu firmly believes there are certain boundaries that you do not cross with your twin, no matter how much you tell each other, and Atsumu just completely ignores those boundaries. 

Now, he just has the image of Bokuto and Hinata walking in on Sakusa Kiyoomi eating his brother’s ass. It’s fucking nightmare inducing.

“Samu,” Atsumu sniffs sadly, interrupting his train of thought, “I just don’t like feelin’ like a dirty secret anymore.”

That particularly sends a sharp shot of pain through Osamu’s chest.

All things considered, Atsumu and Sakusa were out to the fair few people who really mattered. Their team, their coach, their parents, then there was himself and Sunarin. Osamu’s pretty sure there were a fair few people in the professional league who knew since the Schweiden Adlers know too, courtesy of Hinata, but not enough people to stir up any type of media frenzy.

But, of course, this is Miya Atsumu we’re talking about here.

He overshares. He revels in being in the spotlight. He broadcasts what he eats for lunch on social media and shares shirtless mirror selfies of him in the gym. Osamu can’t even imagine what’s been going on in his brother’s head having to hide such a big part of his life, a part that he’s so proud of, from the public for the last three years. 

Not to mention the fact that obviously, Sakusa Kiyoomi’s parents have no fucking clue. Absolutely no clue about their relationship. Absolutely no clue that their son even likes fucking men. 

Osamu honestly thinks it’s ridiculous and can’t help but feel bad for Sakusa. 

I mean, sure, they don’t get to see their son very often anymore, because he’s always off training or traveling the world, being a pro volleyball player and all that. But, _still._

He was their son. He lived under their roof for so long. They had _years_ to notice.

He’s seen Sakusa in the middle of a video call with his parents. How is it that they notice Sakusa’s face getting thinner in the span of a two minute call and _not_ notice that their son is gay and it’s been slowly killing him, hiding it from them his whole life? 

Is it selective vision? What the fuck is that? Osamu could see it from a mile away. 

Even worse, Atsumu’s always been the type who liked being shown off. _Especially_ to parents. He’s a fucking dick, but for some reason, parents always loved him. Maybe it’s the being an Olympian thing. 

Osamu hurts for him, knowing it must be a pretty big hit to his self-esteem, being hidden away the way he’s been for a while now. 

He thinks that maybe Atsumu had underestimated the hardships that come along with being with someone who wasn’t ready to come out. 

“Ya knew this would happen, though.” Osamu points out, “Ya knew it right from the start.”

“I _know.”_ Atsumu groans. “I know… Fuck, I know that.”

Osamu takes one look at his twin and sighs, grudgingly throwing an arm around him, pulling him closer. “C’mere, ya big fuckin’ idiot.”

Atsumu lets out a tiny, pathetic whine, burrowing into Osamu’s shoulder. He breathes in deeply and then breathes out, as if finding comfort and security in his brother’s scent. 

Osamu kinda understood. His twin’s been traveling around more often. 

“I guess yer a good brother sometimes.” Atsumu says against his jacket, “I missed ya, y’know?”

“I’m the best yer ever gonna fuckin’ get.” Osamu grouses, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Atsumu’s head, “And just so ya know, ya need to talk to _him_ if ya feel like this. Not me.”

“I know. I will. But ya know I always have to tell ya first.”

Osamu does know. “Good.”

__

_“Shit,”_ Sakusa hisses, holding Atsumu’s head down with both hands, pressing his feet firmly against the bed, using it as leverage to thrust his hips up. _“God,_ your fucking _tongue_.”

Atsumu moans as Sakusa fucks his mouth, his one hand reaching down to jerk himself off. 

“You take me so well,” He pants, his thrusts getting faster and shallower, as he frantically stretches an arm out to hold onto the sheets, the other keeping Atsumu’s head in place, “Gonna make me come- _fuck fuck fuck.”_

 _“Atsumu.”_ He groans loudly, pushing Atsumu’s head further down while pulling on the sheets so hard that they start to come undone, his hips buck, and he shoots down his throat. 

As he rides out his orgasm, pushing out the last weak dribbles of come, Atsumu moans around his cock, shooting his own come all over the sheets.

Damn. And they’d just changed those three days ago, too.

Atsumu pulls off his dick with a pop and lazily smiles at him, crawling up to press their lips together. 

Sakusa sighs contentedly, closing his eyes, and stroking the back of his neck as he kisses back. “You’re too damn good at that. I hate it.”

Atsumu stretches, reaching for the tissues on the bedside table, cleaning up his hand. “Ya do always come too fast when I go down on ya.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Sakusa laughs, pressing one last kiss to Atsumu’s jaw before pulling him down on top of him. “We’re gonna have to change the sheets again, damn you.”

Atsumu snuggles closer, “Mmm, s’not my fault ya look too fuckin’ sexy from down there. Stop complainin’ and cuddle me. I deserve it.”

“You do, I guess. Ten minutes.” Sakusa says, hiding his face in Atsumu’s hair. “Ten minutes and we change the sheets and take a shower so we can watch that new Netflix show you were talking about.”

Atsumu’s entire face lights up. “Yay.”

Sakusa’s chest squeezes. He’s so cute. What the _fuck._

It’s an hour later, thirty minutes into _The Haunting of Hill House,_ Atsumu’s head comfortably resting on his chest, that Sakusa gets a text from his dad. 

He makes a confused noise. His dad rarely texted him. They had weekly scheduled calls. 

“Who is it?” Atsumu asks, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Just my dad.” Sakusa answers, reaching for his phone.

“Mmm.”

He opens the message. 

Almost instantly, his blood turns cold. His hand stiffens, his tight grip on his phone making it shake. His vision starts to go slightly blurry at the edges.

Atsumu seems to sense that something’s wrong because he looks up curiously, and once he catches the expression on Sakusa’s face, he sits up worriedly. “Omi? What’s wrong?”

He tries to swallow. His mouth is dry. “It’s a link.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows furrow, before turning his gaze down to the phone screen and it’s opened to an article about… **The Top 5 Cutest Ships In Sports!**

 _Shit,_ Atsumu thinks, knowing where this is going.

**1\. Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu (SakuAtsu) of The MSBY Black Jackals - Of course, no one is surprised to see these two in the #1 spot, because they were absolutely #1 in votes by a long-shot, despite not even being a real couple! (Or… are they? 🧐) These two aren’t known for being affectionate and sweet like the others below them on this list, but rather, for their hilarious banter and undeniable chemistry on the court. These two actually live together and have been playing against each other as rivals since their high school days! No wonder they seem to bounce off each other so well! Their teammates seem to _love_ teasing these two together because of it! Plus, fans always like to point out that they always look at each other like they hung the stars in the sky. Here’s a short video compilation of them doing just that plus a few of their other adorable and funny moments:**

_Oh shit,_ Atsumu thinks, eyes going from the article back to Sakusa’s face. 

He doesn’t even wanna know what his boyfriend’s dad had said in reaction to that. Atsumu’s seen that video. It has a few hundred thousand views. He knows what it looks like. And it’s _exactly_ what it looks like, that’s the problem.

“Omi?” Atsumu says urgently, prying the phone out of Sakusa’s shaky hand. He sets it down, before taking both of Sakusa’s hands in his, rubbing them to warm them up and get them to relax. “Omi, yer spiraling. Ya gotta breathe.”

It’s an old mantra that Sakusa doesn’t have to say to himself as often anymore. 

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be fine.

He focuses on his breathing, focuses on the warm hands wrapped around his own, focuses on Atsumu’s voice, tries to forget about the article, tries not to think about the reason for why the hell his own dad would send him that.

“Atsumu?” He croaks, and he doesn’t know why he’s even saying his name. 

“M’right here, Omi-Omi.” Atsumu assures, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Right here.”

“Okay.” Sakusa nods, slowly but surely coming back from the brink of a panic attack. “M’good.”

He gives himself a few long moments before he reaches for his phone again, bracing himself to read whatever the fuck his dad had said about it. 

It’s not as bad as he thought it would be.

It was still pretty bad. But at least it wasn’t _‘Are you gay?’_ or anything along those lines.

It was simply, _“You should be careful about the way you act, Kiyoomi. If people keep thinking things like this, it could hurt your career or your chances at finding yourself a decent girl. Especially considering the fact that your roommate, Atsumu, most likely practices that lifestyle. Be careful. Take care.”_

Atsumu scoffs and Sakusa winces. 

_“Practices that lifestyle. Be careful.”_ He repeats, the words bitter on his tongue. “I suck yer son’s dick for breakfast, good sir, ‘n he likes it.”

_“Atsumu.”_

“What?” Atsumu shrugs, turning to face the forgotten TV screen. “It’s _true.”_

“I know, but just…” Sakusa sighs. “Just… try not to let it get to you.”

Atsumu turns and gives him a look. “Omi, ya really need to listen to yer own advice sometimes.”

Sakusa thinks back to literally a minute ago when he was on the verge of losing his mind and needed help breathing. _Right._

Sakusa takes a deep breath, gathering Atsumu in his arms, kissing the back of his ear ‘cause he knows it always makes Atsumu shiver. He does.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Sakusa says against his neck, and he means it. “I am.”

Atsumu softens, turning his head slightly to nose at Sakusa’s hair. “I don’t need ya to apologize for yer dad, Omi. And it’s not yer fault that he sees me the way he does.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that.” Sakusa grunts. “But I don’t like it either, when he talks about you like that. I’ve asked him to stop it, he just keeps… shit, I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizin’.” Atsumu scolds, tilting Sakusa’s face up by his chin. “Listen to me, okay? I don’t give a shit ‘bout what people think of me. I love myself _way_ too much to let any o’ that shit get to my head. That ain’t what this is about.”

Sakusa looks up. “What’s it about then?”

He kinda knows what it’s about.

Atsumu is silent for a minute, giving himself some time to just look at the man he loves, running a gentle hand through his hair, the way he knows Sakusa loves. He closes his eyes at the feeling, almost like a cat. 

“Omi, ya know this can’t go on forever, right?” Atsumu asks. 

Sakusa remains silent, but he opens his eyes, meeting his gaze. 

Even after all these years, no matter how much better he’d gotten at ignoring it and pushing it down, Atsumu could still see the fear in them.

Sakusa presses their foreheads together, squeezes Atsumu’s free hand. “I know.”

It scares Atsumu, too. 

It scares him that whenever they talk about telling people the truth, Sakusa acts like it’s the same as saying goodbye.

  
  


**_T MINUS 1 YEAR BEFORE THE WEDDING_ **

  
  


The beginning of what felt like the end starts with a family dinner turned wrong.

Atsumu had told his parents about him pretty early on into their relationship. It was only a few weeks in when Sakusa had overheard Atsumu on the phone with them, talking about how cute he was. Then, they’d asked to speak to Sakusa and it was awkward for all of thirty seconds, until Atsumu’s father had gone, “Kiyoomi-kun! Can I call you Kiyoomi? I heard you have freaky wrists! Can you send us a video?”

Safe to say, whenever they had day offs, more often than not, Sakusa wouldn’t tell his own parents about them and instead would spend them in the Miya family home in Hyogo and found entertainment in watching the twins try to kill each other every few hours. 

If not there, then he’d meet up with Komori and Yachi. He’d managed to minimize seeing his parents to… _god,_ he doesn’t even know. When _was_ the last time he’d actually seen his parents in person before this? But, he knew he couldn’t avoid them forever and even Atsumu, who wasn’t even very fond of his parents, despite never meeting them as his boyfriend, had been reminding Sakusa that he couldn’t stay in hiding.

He loved his parents, he _did._ Despite everything, despite the situation of having to lie about who he really is his entire life, he loved them. It’s just that every single time he’s forced to spend time with them, that's more than a five minute long video call, he remembers exactly why he’d spent so long trying to avoid them.

“So, Kiyoomi, we’ve noticed you haven’t been in a relationship with anyone ever since that girl from high school,” His mother starts and Sakusa thinks, _oh god._

“And for a little while, we thought you’d end up with that cute girl you befriended from university, Yachi was it, but I guess she’s not someone you see yourself with romantically?” And Sakusa thinks, _jesus christ._

“He’s probably just been too busy, honey.” His dad reasons, taking another bite of chicken. “You know how it is with a job like theirs. They’re all over the world all the time, it’s probably difficult to form a proper connection with anyone you meet, isn’t it?”

“Right.” Sakusa manages to grit out. “Yeah.”

“Still, we worry.” His mom presses on, “I just hope you aren’t lonely, you know? You’re twenty five now! It’s around the age you start thinking about marriage and having a family. You spend so much time on volleyball and too much with your teammates. I worry about your future, when you’re older and can’t play sports anymore.”

“That’s a long way to go.” Sakusa says, forcing out a reassuring smile. “I’m doing well. I’ve been busy, but I’ve been happy. Really. I’m not even thinking about marriage yet.”

He wasn’t lying, to be fair. Even if they wanted to, he and Atsumu couldn’t exactly get married here.

“Well, since you have a few days off,” His mom starts, putting down her fork to clasp her hands together, and Sakusa recognizes that gesture as, _Mom When She Is About To Say Something I Definitely Will Not Like,_ “I arranged something for you…”

 _“Mom.”_ Sakusa says, voice strained, his eyes hardening.

“I tried to stop her.” His dad points out, raising his hands, feigning innocence. “I told you he wouldn’t like it.” He adds, looking at his wife.

“Oh, but Kiyoomi, she’s such a _great_ girl. And she loves watching your games! She’s a fan!” His mom gushes, “Her parents are good friends of ours and I asked if she’d want to meet you, and well,”

“Mom.” Sakusa groans, burying his face in his hands. “I told you not to do something like this.”

“Just _one_ date.” His mom begs. Sakusa almost feels angry at himself for still being so weak to his parents’ wishes. “Just one and if you really don’t like her, then I’ll leave you alone.”

Sakusa holds back the urge to scream. He looks up and sees that his mom is using her damn puppy dog eyes and that’s _not_ fair. She _knows_ it’s cheating.

He heaves a loaded sigh. _Fuck._ “Okay.”

His mom beams and even his dad looks content with his answer. 

As he tries to finish his dinner, he thinks about how the hell he’s supposed to justify this situation to Atsumu, who was understanding for the most part, but also got jealous a few months ago when he’d, apparently, looked a little too cozy with Kageyama Tobio during a karaoke party. (“He’s Hinata’s fucking boyfriend, Atsumu, why would I _ever?”_ “But… _still.”_ “You’re ridiculous.”)

His mother gives him the girl’s number, says her name is Yuu, and tells him to text her first. 

  
  


**Sakusa Kiyoomi**

Hi, this is Sakusa. I’m guessing you’re Yuu? My mom told me to text you, so here it is.

Our parents arranged a blind date for us, but I need to let you know now that I’m really not looking for anything and I’m just going through with this to appease my parents.

Just so there’s no misunderstanding here or anything.

**Yuu**

THANK GOD

Hey that’s rly good to know cause like i’m super gay and that’s why my parents rly wanted me to do this whole thing? Cause they’re under the impression that I just can’t meet any decent guys fuck lmao

  
  


Sakusa audibly sighs in relief.

  
  


**Sakusa Kiyoomi**

You have no fucking idea how good that is to hear.

Where do you wanna meet tomorrow?

  
  


__

Within ten minutes of being in Koito Yuu’s presence, Sakusa’s fallen half in love with her. He truly believes that if he had the capacity in his heart to be with women, he would choose her. That’s just the kind of person she is. 

She’s admittedly pretty, attractive in a wild, carefree way. She kind of reminded him of Atsumu.

When she enters the cafe and sees him, the first thing she tells him is, _‘Damn, you’re even prettier in real life! I love that for you!’_ before promptly going into a tangent about all the shitty blind dates she’s been on with not only ugly, but boring men, and how glad she is now that he’s not only good looking, but also not looking to date her.

“So,” She leans forward, resting her chin in her hand, “I’ve been talking about myself too much. What’s your reason?”

Sakusa blinks. “My reason?”

“You know,” She says, motioning to the air, “Your reason for not wanting to do all this. Actually, aren’t you a star volleyball player? Why the hell are your parents worrying about your lovelife?”

Sakusa reflexively panics at the question, but then slowly realizes that he’s sitting in front of a girl who’s in the same boat as him. He’s sitting in front of a girl who probably understands, who probably knows some of the things he’s felt and gone through to some extent. Just like Atsumu. Just like Yachi. Just like Bokuto, Hinata, Osamu, and he realizes there’s nothing to be afraid of.

“We’re in a similar situation.” He says and hopes she gets it.

She does.

“I see.” She hums, leaning back, and crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Huh… I wouldn’t have thought.”

Sakusa shrugs.

“So,” She starts, “Do you mean we’re in a similar situation as in, your parents don’t accept it and think you just need to meet more women?”

Sakusa purses his lips. “More like my parents have no idea that I’ve been in love with the same guy since I was fifteen.”

Yuu gapes. “ _No_ idea? At all?”

Sakusa nods. “Not a clue.”

“Christ.” She breathes out in disbelief. “Since you were _fifteen?_ Shit, aren’t you like, twenty five now? That’s a long fucking time.”

Sakusa realizes it sounds bad now that he’s saying it out loud. “Yeah, it’s… Yeah.”

Yuu bites her bottom lip, looking properly worried for him now. “Why haven’t you told them?”

Sakusa winces. “We’re getting into that?”

“Oh, shit, sorry if it’s a sensitive topic.” Yuu says hurriedly, “You don’t need to answer me. I’m just… curious. I’d understand if you were still financially dependent on them. But, you’re, well…”

“A professional volleyball player who travels around the world?” Sakusa finishes for her.

“I was gonna say rich, but that too.” 

Sakusa actually laughs at that, and that makes her laugh too. All things considered, he thinks this is the best date with a girl he’s ever been on. 

“Jesus, I don’t even know at this point.” Sakusa sighs, leaning back against his chair. “I guess I’m just… scared to lose them completely.”

Yuu looks at him like she understands. 

“How about you?” He asks, “Your parents know, right? How’d they take it besides pushing you into a hundred blind dates?”

“Not great.” She admits, her smile turning slightly bitter. “A lot of crying, a lot of yelling, it wasn’t pretty.”

Sakusa can imagine that much. “How about now?”

“Well, right now, as you can see, I’m going along with what they want. I’m playing the part in front of them. But there’s a reason for it.” And the way she says it is likened to a cartoon villain as she gives Sakusa a wink.

He’s intrigued. “What reason?”

Her smile is mischievous as she reaches into the pocket of her bag and fishes out her phone. After a few seconds of scrolling, she raises it up to show him the screen and he’s greeted with a picture of her with another woman. They’re both smiling brightly at the camera, cheeks pressed together. Sakusa can tell they’re a couple.

“How long have you been together?” He asks.

“Two years.” She answers. “But we’ve known each other since we were kids. Next door neighbors and all.”

Sakusa softens. “That’s cute.”

“It was torture, actually, but I guess.” She laughs, “Anyway, my parents don’t know about her and her parents don’t know about me either. Right now, I’m still working under my dad’s company so I can’t go against them. But I’m saving up, looking for other jobs, looking for places outside this hellhole. And one day, sometime soon, when she and I are both ready, we’re leaving.”

Sakusa bites back his shock. “Just like that?”

“Yep.” She says casually, popping the ‘p’ and reaching for her coffee cup to take a sip. “I mean, my parents obviously can’t accept it, her parents are assholes, and so why should we put up with that? We’ll save them the trouble and leave.”

Sakusa’s heard all the stories, watched all the movies, but he’s never met an actual person, in real life, who was willing to just… walk away. 

Walk away from her own family, her entire life, all of it, just for the chance to start anew. Just to be who she is.

“That’s kind of amazing, you know.” He says, and he’s speaking to himself more than to her. 

She raises her eyebrows. “Amazing?”

“That’s terrifying.” Sakusa clarifies, eyes focused on his coffee cup, as he twists it with both hands to keep them busy. “I can’t even imagine doing something like that.”

Sakusa isn’t even looking at her, but he can tell that she smiles. “Yeah, you have. I’m sure you have. People like us… We all have. You’d just never act on it.”

Sakusa bites the inside of his mouth.

Yuu leans forward, lowers her voice when she asks, “That boy you mentioned… Is it Miya Atsumu?”

Sakusa’s eyes widen as he looks up at her. 

She looks a little smug. “Ah. I knew it.”

Sakusa shouldn’t even be surprised. They had fanmade ship videos on Youtube. They were the #1 couple in the sports scene, apparently.

It’s quiet for a moment before she asks, “When do you plan to tell them about him? About _you?”_

His hands tighten around his coffee mug. “I don’t know.”

“Does he know you’re here right now? With me?”

Sakusa feels a pang of guilt. “No.”

“Were you scared he’d be upset?” She asks, “That you’re still… having to do shit like this?”

“Stop.” Sakusa manages to say between gritted teeth. “I get your point.”

After letting him sit in thought for a moment, she reaches out and lays her hand on top of his. 

“I’m not trying to point out anything. Nothing you don’t already know.” She assures and for some reason, Sakusa trusts her. “I just recognize this situation all too well, that’s all.”

Sakusa doesn’t know whether he wants to walk away or reach forward and hug her.

“Sakusa-kun,” She says his name and it flows smoothly off her tongue like she’s known him all her life, “Sometimes, the process will be painful. And sometimes, we’ll lose people who we really don’t want to lose,”

He gulps as she squeezes his hand tightly.

“But there’s no point in living a life that isn’t _true.”_

For some reason, hearing that, Sakusa really wants to cry. But they’re in a cafe in the early afternoon, so instead, he turns his palms around and takes her hands in his. 

“Thank you.” He says, voice breaking slightly at the end. 

“For the record, this is the _best_ blind date I’ve ever been on.” Yuu’s smile is sincere. 

Sakusa sniffs, pulling himself together. “Same.”

Yuu makes a face. “I’m the _only_ blind date you’ve ever been on.”

He nods. “Exactly.”

“Bitch.” She laughs.

Sakusa looks at her, thinks, _Atsumu would love her._ He looks at her, thinks, _if gay people go to hell, if people like her, like Yachi, like Atsumu, go to hell, then maybe that’s exactly where he wants to be._

__

“My Omi-Omi! Back from inferno!” Atsumu greets him the second he enters the door, throwing his arms around his neck, pulling his mask down, and showering kisses all over his face. 

Sakusa groans exasperatedly, but wraps his free arm around Atsumu’s waist anyway. “Let me put my things away first, you big baby.”

Atsumu peels himself off him, but not before pressing one last kiss to Sakusa’s lips. 

“Okay. Mom made me bring home a buncha snacks. They’re all in the kitchen. She told me to tell ya she misses ya!”

Sakusa can’t help the smile that makes its way to his face, as he turns away to set his bag down on the floor by their couch. “Was it fun? How many wins does Osamu have over you now?”

Atsumu makes a face, plopping down on the couch. “Y’know, Omi, if ya keep takin’ his side over mine, I’m gonna break up with ya.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.” Atsumu agrees easily, “But stop it! It hurts my feelings! I’m supposed to be yer favorite twin!”

“You are,” Sakusa assures, leaning down to kiss Atsumu on the forehead. “Most of the time, at least. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Most of the—” Atsumu sputters after him, “Hey! Take that back! Say I’m yer favorite twin _all_ the time!”

Sakusa turns back, raising his eyebrows. “Is that even a real question? I don’t let Osamu stick his cock in me, do I?”

“Jesus Christ, Omi.” Atsumu grimaces. “Never say the words ‘Osamu’ and ‘cock’ in one sentence ever again.”

“Alright, drama queen, let me take my shower.” 

“No, wait!” Atsumu exclaims, maneuvering himself into a kneeling position to meet Sakusa’s gaze, resting his arms on the back of the couch, settling his chin on top of his hands. “You haven’t even told me all ‘bout yer weekend. Was it fun?”

Sakusa pauses in the middle of removing his gloves. 

The realization hits him that there’s something very important that he’s yet to tell Atsumu and he’s about 85% sure that Atsumu’s not going to like it. 

He’s reserving the other 15% for the fact that Yuu’s a lesbian and that’ll probably make it slightly better.

For a moment, he wonders, does he _really_ have to tell him? It’s not like anything actually happened, other than the fact that he got himself a new friend. If he tells him, it’ll probably just cause unnecessary drama. 

But then he has flashbacks to Yuu’s guilt-trip, whether she meant for it to be a guilt-trip or not, and thinks about how much she reminded him of Atsumu, how much he wanted to tell Atsumu about her, even knowing he’s probably going to have to spend a lot of time having to appease him and make up for the fact that he didn’t tell him about it.

“Atsumu,” Sakusa starts, cautiously making his way closer to him, setting his gloves on the table, “I, uh… I went on a blind date with a lesbian.”

Sakusa almost laughs. He really almost does. The look on Atsumu’s face is priceless. 

“You went on a _what_ with a _what?”_ Atsumu stammers in disbelief.

“I went on a… blind date.” Sakusa repeats, “... with a lesbian.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows furrow, as if trying to process the information, before he slowly stands up, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Can I have some fuckin’ context?”

 _Shit, here we go,_ Sakusa braces himself.

“My mom’s been worried about the fact that I haven’t had a girlfriend since high school,” Sakusa explains, eyeing Atsumu’s face for any miniature change in expression, “So, she… set me up with someone.”

“With a _lesbian?”_ Atsumu asks.

“Well, she doesn’t _know_ she’s a lesbian.” Sakusa clarifies, “Her parents have been forcing her into blind dates because they’re under the impression that she just hasn’t met the right man, and… Well, weren’t we lucky that it all turned out okay?” He breathes out a laugh.

Atsumu doesn’t seem to find it all too funny.

“Wait, so yer tellin’ me,” Atsumu starts, making his way closer to Sakusa, “Yer mom told ya to go on a blind date, ya said yes, without even fuckin’ _telling me,_ by the goddamn way, and she jus’ luckily turned out to be a lesbian.”

_Well, when he puts it that way it sounds bad._

“I’m sorry.”

Atsumu closes his eyes and breathes out of his nose. “Fer fuck’s sake, Omi, are ya fuckin’ kidding me?”

Sakusa winces. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t have a choice-”

“Yeah, you did.” Atsumu argues, “Yer a grown man, you did have a choice, ya just couldn’t say no to yer mom.”

“I texted her before the date, I clarified I was only doing it to appease my parents and that I wasn’t looking to date anyone,” Sakusa explains, hoping to make the hurt expression on Atsumu’s face disappear, “And it turned out that she’s gay and has a girlfriend, and _nothing_ happened, okay?”

Atsumu looks almost livid, his glare piercing. “That’s not what this is about and ya know it.”

Sakusa does know it.

It’s silent for a while, Sakusa giving Atsumu room to breathe, the man resorting to pacing, before seemingly giving up, collapsing onto the couch. 

He bends down, hiding his face in his hands, before frustratedly running them through his hair.

“Yer too much for me.” He mumbles, taking a steadying breath, “Yer too fuckin’ much.”

Sakusa bites the insides of his mouth, making his way over to the couch, sitting beside him but keeping a reasonable distance in case it would make Atsumu angrier.

“I’m sorry.” Sakusa repeats, and he means it. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry.”

He listens to Atsumu breathe. 

After a few more minutes, he starts talking, sounding a lot calmer.

“I love you so much, y’know that?” Atsumu says and his voice is shaking. “So goddamn much. Sometimes, I think about how much and it scares the shit out of me. I can’t imagine my fuckin’ life without ya.”

Sakusa feels like someone had just run a lawnmower over his chest.

“The things that yer goin’ through, yer situation with yer parents, I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand, no matter how much I want to. I wish I could take yer pain away, I wish I could shoulder at least half of it, and I’m _sorry._ I’m sorry that ya feel like ya have to go on fuckin’ blind dates with women to keep ‘em in yer life.”

Atsumu finally looks up at him and his eyes are glassy. “But, y’know, it’s really hard havin’ to be kept a secret, havin’ to tone down something that I’ve been taught to embrace, havin’ to always go out into the world and act like you _aren’t_ the love of my life,”

Sakusa isn’t able to fight the urge to reach out, taking Atsumu’s hands in his. 

He lets him.

“I’m still an attention seeking, validation seeking, self-absorbed sunovabitch at the end of the day, Omi,” Atsumu sniffs, managing to push out a small smile, “But I’m doin’ it all because I _said_ I would, because I’m waitin’ for ya to be _ready,_ because I fuckin’ love ya so goddamn much, ya hear me?”

Sakusa nods, scared that if he opens his mouth, he’ll blurt out something way too honest, like, _you're the love of my goddamn life_. 

“So, throw me a fuckin’ bone here, alright? And promise me ya won’t say yes to any more blind dates, lesbian or not.” He sniffs, his expression turning into a glare, “And stop just _starin’_ at me like that ‘n hold me and tell me ya love me when I’m _crying,_ ya useless boyfriend.” His voice breaking into a sob.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Sakusa breathes out, finally, gathering Atsumu in his arms and burying his face in his neck. “I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

He lets Atsumu cry for a little while, rocking them back and forth, silently pressing kisses everywhere he can reach. “I promise I’ll do better.” 

“Mmm.” Atsumu grumbles, lifting his head up slightly, “Tell me about the lesbian. Was she cool? All the lesbians I know are.”

Sakusa holds him as he tells Atsumu about Yuu, keeps his eyes on him, taking in this man who’s shown so many times that he loved him wholeheartedly and unconditionally.

And he realizes something for the first time. 

He’s only ever really thought about things from his own point of view, about how worth it was to abandon everything he was raised to believe in, to let himself fall in love. 

He always thought about all the things he’d have to give up, have to sacrifice, have to face, eventually, the past three years spent convincing himself that Atsumu would be worth the pain.

He always thought about how one day, inevitably, terrifyingly, he’d have to change how he’s been living his whole life to be with Atsumu.

He was so absorbed in his own struggle, without realizing that the past three years, Atsumu’s already been doing just that.

  
  
  


**_T MINUS 10 MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING_ **

Sakusa doesn’t know how exactly he ends up faded in Bokuto and Hinata’s apartment with some of his fellow Olympians but he knows that he’s having a good time.

Trust Bokuto Koutarou to go crazy with his birthday. 

This wasn’t even his only birthday celebration. This was apparently his second one. The first one was held in a fancy bar two nights ago and it involved way more money, way more booze, and way more people. Atsumu had gone and tried to drag him along but Sakusa had answered with, ‘I’d rather shoot myself.’ 

It was worth it, though. Atsumu had come home earlier than expected, drunk and horny as he always is when he drinks too much, and the night had ended with him sitting on Sakusa’s face and coming all over their headboard, twice.

It was a good night.

Apparently, Kuroo and Kenma finally hooked up and Bokuto had cried telling them about it, with all the pride of a supportive father. Sakusa had no idea what he was going on about, really, but good for them.

“Hey, Wakatoshi,” Sakusa says but it comes out as a garble, “Those cookies had weed, didn’t they?”

When Ushijima turns to him, his eyes are bloodshot. “I’m afraid so.”

“Shit.” He swears. “I ate two. No wonder I feel like a feather.”

“You’re _fiiiiine.”_ Atsumu says from beside him, waving a hand flippantly. “These ones aren’t that strong.”

Komori starts giggling from his position on the floor. “Hehe. Sakusa did _drugs.”_

He gives his cousin a pointed look. “I hate that you’re here.”

“Don’t be mean, Omi,” Atsumu gives him a dopey smile, before draping his arms around his cousin, “I love this guy. He told me all ‘bout how ya wanted to fuck me silly when we were sixteen.”

Sakusa merely grunts, closing his eyes peacefully. “Stop talking. I’d fight both of you if I didn’t feel so fucking good right now.”

“Hmmm,” Atsumu hums and it sounds dangerous, “Ya look awfully pliant tonight, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa feels fingers start running over his thigh and he sighs. 

“Wow,” Komori deadpans and Sakusa imagines that he’s looking away, “Right in front of my salad. Literally.” 

He motions towards the plate of salad on his lap.

“Why the hell did Bokkun even serve salad?” Atsumu asks, leaning his head on Sakusa’s shoulder.

“We’re athletes, Atsumu.” Aran retorts, appearing from the kitchen. “We have to eat healthy.”

“We’re eating space cookies, Aran-kun, I hardly count that as healthy living.” Atsumu shoots back, “And I hate that _yer_ here.”

Aran answers with him a shrug of his shoulders. “Better me than Sunarin, don’t ya think?”

Atsumu thinks about it for a second. “Yer right.”

“Atsumu, baby, look at them,” Sakusa says slapping him on the arm and Atsumu has to bite back a smile at the pet name. 

Sakusa barely ever called him that outside the bedroom. 

“This is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. If I need to think of something to bring a boner down, I’ll think of this.”

Bokuto, Hinata, and Hoshiumi seem to be doing a rendition of Super Trouper by ABBA. He doesn’t know when the hell they’d put on the colorful scarves. 

Are those Bokuto’s? What the _fuck._ Now, he wants one.

“Hey, Omi, when ya watched Mamma Mia for the first time, did ya ever wanna be part of Donna and The Dynamos?” Atsumu asks, “I remember Samu and I jumpin’ on the bed jammin’ to Dancing Queen.”

“I dunno, but I do know that I had a fat crush on Christine Baranski and thought she was my miracle ticket to a life of heterosexuality.”

“Fuck.” Atsumu breathes out. “Yer my soulmate. Never leave me.”

The song switches to Honey Honey and the space cookies have taken full effect on everyone. Kageyama Tobio had a hat with a feather on top of his head, and Akaashi Keiji was filming his boyfriend with one hand while waving a balloon animal with the other. 

(Wait, when the hell did Ushijima learn how to make balloon animals and what situation led to that?)

It’s around the time Gimme Gimme Gimme starts playing that time and space cease to exist and turn into a mere illusion. 

Aran is shirtless, Komori is dead, Ushijima is on the phone with Tendou (Who’s in fuckin’ Paris, bless his phone bill.), Hoshiumi is _still_ singing at the top of his lungs, Hyakuzawa passed out with his head on the toilet seat, Bokuto and Akaashi have the munchies and are eating hot cheetos, and Kageyama and Hinata…

“Holy shit.” Atsumu exhales, eyes trained on the two.

Hinata had the man caged between his thighs, which Kageyama seemed to be appreciating, as he ran his hands over them, groping and squeezing. They were fully _devouring_ each other on the couch, like it was no one’s business, right in front of everyone. 

Which it was actually kind of no one’s business, because nobody was really looking at them, save for him and…

He turns his head and Sakusa looked just as affected as him, staring at the two with a very familiar haze in his eyes, one that Atsumu recognizes well. 

He leans into his ear, whispers, “Is it turnin’ ya on too, Omi?”

“Shit,” Sakusa groans weakly, squirming in his seat, “What the _hell.”_ He complains, as if in disbelief that he’s getting hard over Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio.

Atsumu couldn’t say he shared that same disbelief. He’s always found the pair attractive. Even before they buffed up. His high school self was really onto something.

He feels his cock steadily rising as Hinata starts grinding down against his boyfriend’s crotch and that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back, as he turns to Sakusa, “Ya think the others’d mind if I jus’ fuckin’ took my dick out right now ‘n started stroking?”

“Honestly? No.” Sakusa answers and Atsumu notices the obvious bulge in his pants matching his own, “But I won’t let you. If you’ve forgotten, our apartment is just one floor up.”

“Aw,” Atsumu playfully whines, “Thought we could watch ‘em and ya’d take me right here in front of everyone.”

“I know I’m high and have been convinced to do some risky shit here and there, but there are lines I will not cross, even for you. And my _cousin_ is right there, what the _fuck.”_ Sakusa grouses, meeting Atsumu’s eyes. “Let’s go.”

“Yer cousin’s asleep though—”

They’re cut off by a particularly loud moan from Hinata.

Sakusa’s face contorts like he’s being tortured, his eyebrows pinched. “Let’s fucking go, _now.”_

As they leave the apartment hand in hand in a hurry, the others say goodbye with half dead cheers and wolf whistles. 

It’s a good night.

__

  
  


The end comes in the form of Sakusa waking up to a still unconscious Atsumu, the blinding light of the sun peaking through the blinds, and an onslaught of messages and missed calls.

Sakusa’s first thought is, _oh god what did I do last night._ His second thought is, _oh god what did Atsumu do last night._ His third thought is, _oh god is Komori dead._

The first text thread he opens is Komori’s, so that cancels out his third thought.

**Komori Motoya**

Hey, u awake? Shit Sakusa

Call me when u can. We’ll try to get things under control.

Yo are u okay? Ur okay right? 

Let me know how things are

Sakusa’s heartbeat quickens. What the fuck? He swipes out of that text thread and goes to the next one, being Hinata.

**Hinata Shoyo**

Sakusa-san!!! I hope u and Atsumu-san are doing alright

I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry

We’re here for you no matter what, okay?

  
  


What the fuck. What was that supposed to mean?

“Atsumu,” Sakusa calls out, eyes not leaving the screen, reaching out to shake his boyfriend awake, “Wake up, I think there’s something wrong.”

**Yachi Hitoka**

Sakusa-kun? Call me when you can, please.

I’m worried. But everything will be alright.

Let me know if you need me. I’ll come running, I promise!

  
  


“Omi,” Atsumu groans, stretching his limbs, and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “What the hell? What’re ya wakin’ me up for?”

“There’s something wrong.” Sakusa repeats. He’s shaking. The next text threads are from the other Jackals, Meian, Inunaki, Oliver, Adriah, Bokuto. There were some from the others who were with them last night, like Akaashi and Kageyama. 

**Bokuto Koutarou**

Holy shit Omi-kun I’m so sorry

None of us meant to do that

We didn’t even think about it. I’m so sorry.

Atsumu sits up, eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the notifications on Sakusa’s phone, before reaching for his own. 

He makes a confused noise. 

“Samu and my ‘rents called me a few times… Aran, Suna, Kita, Bokuto… What the fuck’s goin’ on?”

Sakusa finally sees what he’s searching for. It’s a link to an article.

  
  


**_SAKUATSU FINALLY CONFIRMED?_ **

After years and years of theories and speculation, it looks like our favorite unconfirmed volleyball couple, Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi of The MSBY Black Jackals were caught in the middle of what seemed to be a loving (and steamy) liplock! 

It’s no secret that Bokuto Koutarou of the MSBY Black Jackals celebrated his 26th birthday last September 20 and had more than one celebration! (Not surprising for someone who’s known to be a social butterfly.) His first celebration that was held in B.A.D. made some headlines due to all the familiar faces seen attending the party. (Who knew Bokuto was acquainted with famous Youtuber, Worldwide Kodzuken?)

But it seems his second celebration from the night before has started a media frenzy! Scattered throughout the night, several Instagram stories had been posted on more than one social media account (Hmm… it must’ve been the alcohol. We’re looking at you, Bokuto, Hinata, and Hoshiumi.), exposing a lot of our beloved Olympians in the middle of some very… risque situations. We could go on and on about the Mamma Mia dance party, the questionable hat choices, and the glimpse we got of one of our favorite confirmed couples, Kageyama Tobio of the Schweiden Adlers and Hinata Shoyo of the MSBY Black Jackals, getting steamy on the couch!

But today’s headline is focused on what seems to be a confirmation of a romance between who fans lovingly call, SakuAtsu. In the background of several of these Instagram stories, you catch glimpses of the two all over each other, hand-holding, thigh touching, leaning against each other’s shoulders, even kissing, you name it!

There may not have been any verbal confirmation but if you’ve seen those clips, I think anyone would agree that it’s a confirmation in itself. If you haven’t, here’s a fanmade clip compilation very cleverly named, _SakuAtsu Making Everyone Feel Single In The Background Of Instagram Stories For 4 Minutes._

It scares Atsumu that Sakusa doesn’t even look panicked. He doesn’t seem like he’s spiraling. He doesn’t look scared. The fear in his eyes that Atsumu had gotten so acquainted with, just _gone._

He didn’t look scared. He just looked defeated.

When he looks up to meet Atsumu’s eyes, it’s as if he were saying, _it’s over._

The very last text thread Sakusa opens is from his mother and it’s nothing but a curt, 

_Kiyoomi, we need to talk. We’ll be at your apartment in a few hours._

“Omi?” Atsumu manages to say, resting a hand on the small of his back. “Ya good?”

Sakusa’s not sure how he’s supposed to react. He’s not even sure how he feels. It’s almost like it just isn’t sinking in. He’d known something like this would happen, eventually. But now that the moment’s here, he only feels like doing one thing.

He laughs. 

He laughs so hard that tears form in the corners of his eyes and Atsumu’s looking at him like he’s completely lost it. Maybe he has.

“Shit,” He swears at the hilarity of it all, wiping away his stray tears, “Hey, Atsumu. You ready for meet the parents?”

  
  


If asked to repeat what exactly his parents had said that day, he couldn’t tell you for the life of him. He heard once that when something hurts you so deeply, you tend to forget about it, your brain subconsciously making you bury the memory as deep as you possibly can for the sake of survival. 

Sakusa isn’t sure how much of that is true, but he assumes that’s what happened. 

Also, to be fair, he zoned out for most of it. The second his parents had stepped into the apartment looking damn near livid, Sakusa had to bite back a laugh. He couldn’t seem to stop finding the entire situation to be comedic. 

If anything, Atsumu seemed to be the one who was freaking out for him, sitting as close to him as possible without actually touching him. Probably for the purpose of keeping Sakusa’s parents from being even angrier but staying close enough to comfort him or be there in case things get violent.

So, he doesn’t really remember the first part. His brain only starts catching up in the middle of his dad saying _“I told you that if you were going to be roommates with him, you’d have to be careful because he could be a bad influence—”_ and that’s what snaps him out of his trance.

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Sakusa says, voice low, but firm. “You can say whatever you want about me but leave Atsumu out of it.”

He sees the shock in his parents’ eyes. He realizes he’s never talked back to them. Ever.

Atsumu looks taken aback too, but there’s a hint of affection in his eyes as he subtly reaches out and squeezes Sakusa’s hand clutching onto the edge of the couch. 

“Kiyoomi,” His mother says, and she sounds like she’s begging him for something, “We’re _worried_ about you. The path you’re choosing to take is a tough one and a _wrong_ one and we just want to help—”

This time, Sakusa doesn’t hold back his laughter. _The path he’s choosing._

“The path I’m choosing?” He repeats, feeling hysterical. “You think I _chose_ this?”

“Kiyoomi.” His dad says sternly. “Listen to what your mother is saying. We just want what’s best for you.”

“No, _you_ listen.” Sakusa hisses between gritted teeth. “I’ve spent my whole life listening to you, so it’s your turn to listen to me.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve known I was gay since I was fifteen. Did you know that?”

His dad closes his mouth, eyes widening.

 _“Fifteen._ Think about that. And you had no clue. You had no clue that I’ve spent so much of my life trying to mold myself into someone I just wasn’t, making myself miserable, making every decision I made in life, never for myself, but for _you,_ so that I could be a good son. Because I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Atsumu’s squeezing his hand tighter and Sakusa realizes he’s practically yelling but he can’t stop.

“If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen this.” He continues, because if he stops now, he’ll never get it out. “I need you to know that. If I could’ve chosen, it wouldn’t have been this.”

“Kiyoomi, if you would just come with us—” 

“I _tried.”_ He asserts, closing his eyes, grounding himself. “If there’s anything I did, I _tried._ All my life. I’ve been so tired… all my life.” 

He looks up at them, looks his parents in the eye when he says, “But this is me. No matter how much I tried not to be, it’s _me._ And if you can’t accept that, then…”

Sakusa tells himself, _say it. Tell them. Tell them that if they can’t accept you, then leave. Tell them if they can’t love you as you are, then they can get out of your life. Tell them you’ll be fine without them. Tell them. Open your fucking mouth, Sakusa Kiyoomi._

“If you can’t accept me,” He says, inhales, exhales, “... then _leave.”_

It’s the longest silence Sakusa had ever felt in his life. It was an entire lifetime, with Atsumu’s hand in his, and the parents he’d loved so much for so long, staring at him like they didn’t recognize him. 

Hell, Sakusa couldn’t blame them. In the end, they never really did know him. 

He thinks back to what Yuu told him that afternoon in the cafe.

_Sakusa-kun,_

“Kiyoomi,” His dad sighs, gently holding his mother by her arm, “Once you’ve gotten your head straight, give us a call.”

_Sometimes, the process will be painful._

Sakusa watches them walk towards the door, his mother giving him one last look, saying, “We love you, Kiyoomi. We just want you to be on the right path.”

_And sometimes, we’ll lose people who we really don’t want to lose._

“The next time you decide to speak to us, make sure it’s when you’re ready to get help. Otherwise…” His dad drifts off, shaking his head, before opening the door. “Make the right choice, son.”

_But there’s no point in living a life that isn’t true._

The door closes. 

It’s only then that Sakusa’s knees buckle and Atsumu’s hands are on him before they touch the floor. 

“Omi?” Atsumu’s voice sounds distant but Sakusa can vaguely feel hands on his skin. They’re shaking so badly. Was that Atsumu or him? 

“Omi, are you okay? Omi? Are ya with me?”

Sakusa doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know about anything at all.

  
  


Atsumu knows it’s coming so when it does, he’s ready.

After Sakusa’s parents walk out their front door, an eerie quiet comes over the apartment, one that doesn’t go away. Minutes pass, hours, days, weeks. It turns into an emptiness that seeps into everything they do and everywhere they go. 

They play as well as they always do, their work, their volleyball, always kept separate from whatever the hell else was going on in their lives. But it was the only thing they had left. The only thing holding them together.

Volleyball. 

Just like all those years ago.

It takes three weeks for it to come and Atsumu knew it was coming, waiting like an idiot, only because he didn’t have the heart to do it himself.

That damned morning three weeks ago, he’d rubbed Sakusa’s back as he threw up everything he ate the night before. That day, he’d done all the chores, cooked, cleaned, the way Sakusa always did, making sure he ate, despite being close to catatonic. That night, he held him to sleep even if he wouldn’t hold him back. 

And he did that every night after.

Three weeks. Sakusa’s parents don’t call him, don’t text him, don’t try to visit them. Honestly, Atsumu half expects them to start bombarding _his_ phone, blaming him for their son being gay, but they don’t. 

Three weeks of concerned calls and texts from his parents, from Osamu, from Suna. All of which he replied with nothing but variations of, _I’ll talk to you soon. Not now._

Three weeks. They haven’t kissed in three weeks. 

Atsumu knows it’s coming, knows Sakusa’s probably been waiting for when they’d have a break coming before bringing it up, so when he hears it, he’s ready.

“Atsumu,” Sakusa starts, standing in front of him with his hands clenched into fists at his side, “I think we need to—“

“Break up?” Atsumu finishes his sentence without blinking.

Sakusa closes his mouth. He doesn’t look him in the eye.

“Are ya tryin’ to run away again, Omi?” Atsumu asks, tells himself that he can’t cry. He can’t be the one to cry right now. 

“Atsumu… I _can’t_ do this.” Sakusa says and he sounds so empty, like he’s used up all of himself just to be able to stand in front of him right now. “It’s all too much for me.”

Atsumu wills his voice not to quiver as he asks, “Ya don’t think it is for me?”

He sees Sakusa’s nails dig into his palms. 

He takes a deep breath, tells himself the same mantra Sakusa has been using his whole life, realizing for the first time how exactly he feels whenever he uses it.

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be fine.

“Y’know, Omi,” Atsumu starts, making his way closer to him, taking Sakusa’s hands in his, urging him to stop hurting himself, “Honestly, I don’t think I ever really had ya.”

The look on Sakusa’s face is anguished.

“I only ever had half of ya, y’know? ‘Cause you were too scared to ever give me all of ya… and that was okay.” He says, looking him in the eye, so he knows he means it. “‘Cause I love ya with all of me, Omi. _All_ of me.”

Atsumu sees the exact moment that Sakusa cracks, because his chin wobbles for a moment, blink and you miss it, but it was there. 

“I’d do anything for you.” Atsumu says without a hint of doubt or hesitation. _“Anything.”_

Sakusa’s hands seem to try and close in on themselves but Atsumu doesn’t let them.

“So if ya really believe that this is what ya need right now, then I’ll let ya break me, Omi.” He says, pressing their foreheads together, “I’ll let ya break me to fuckin’ pieces.”

Sakusa opens his mouth, breath shaky, “Please,”

“No, you listen to me,” Atsumu says, voice suddenly turning assertive, no matter how shaky it is, “I’ll let ya break up with me. But I’m not gonna let ya move out. I’m not gonna let ya run away. Because y’know what, Omi? I know you love me. Even if I dunno ‘bout anythin’ else, I know that much. No matter how much ya wanna run, we’ve been in love with each other our whole lives and there’s no runnin’ from that. Yer stupid in love with me and _you_ know it.” 

He looks like he’s about to crumble. “Atsumu, _stop—“_

“Since we were teenagers, Omi,” Atsumu breathes out, “You love me, you break me, and you run away. So, y’know what? This time, I’m not gonna make it easy. Yer gonna stay right here, yer gonna see the damage you’ve inflicted, and yer gonna _watch_ me break.”

Sakusa closes his eyes and Atsumu knows he’s hurting. He knows it’s hurting him and he thinks, _good._

_Feel it. Realize what the hell you need to do next._

“I’m _tired_ of cryin’ for you all alone, Omi. So, once ya figure yerself out, ya better fuckin’ apologize to me.” Atsumu says, finally pulling away, and for someone who’d just had his heart shattered to pieces, he sounds like he’s won. 

“I’m tired of cryin’ for you. You cry for me, this time.”

Atsumu turns around, picks up his gym bag, and walks out their door, leaving it slightly open for Sakusa to follow. “The gym is free. Let’s go.”

And Sakusa gets it. 

Atsumu isn’t saying goodbye. 

Instead, he refuses to let Sakusa be a coward, and takes matters into his own hands, saying, _this is the last time_ _I’m leaving my door open for you._

_What are you going to do?_

____

It’s only at night, back in the room that felt more like his three years ago, lying in a bed that now felt so unfamiliar, that Atsumu finally allows himself to break. 

It’s two in the morning, but he reaches for his phone, looks for Osamu’s contact, and presses the call button.

He picks up after one ring.

“Tsumu?” His voice crackles through the phone, and he didn’t sound like he’d been asleep at all.

“Not ‘ew’ tonight, huh?” Atsumu jokes. “It’s good to know ya know how to be nice.”

A pause.

“Tsumu, it’s alright.” Osamu says gently, “It’s jus’ me.”

It starts out slow, and then all at once. 

His breathing gets shallow, his chest tightens, he gasps for air, and he feels like someone rips his heart out of his throat when his exhale turns into a sob. 

Once it starts, it doesn’t stop. 

He does the only thing he knows to do when he feels like this. 

He cries to his brother, holding on tightly to his phone with both hands as if it were Osamu, and he just breaks down completely. 

It goes on for so long that he starts to worry about the state of his throat. He wonders if the man in the next room can hear him.

He hopes he can. 

“Samu,” Atsumu says pathetically in between bouts of wailing, _“Fuck,_ this hurts.”

He tries to hide it but Atsumu’s pretty sure he can hear Osamu sniffling on the other end. 

“Ya have a break comin’ up?” Osamu asks and Atsumu can hear noises in the background, as if he were rummaging around.

“Startin’ tomorrow.” Atsumu manages to say but it still comes out as a sob, “Ya gonna come see me?”

“I’m pickin’ ya up in a few. Get ready.”

Atsumu will never say it out loud but Osamu’s the best part of him. 

He instantly kicks his blanket off, scrambling out of bed. “Well, hurry up.”

It’s almost three am by the time Osamu’s in front of the Jackals complex. When Atsumu enters the car looking like someone had just died, Osamu doesn’t say anything. He just starts driving.

During the day, it’s always hard to appreciate long winding roads and scenery. The city was always filled with noise and traffic. Osamu only ever learned to appreciate driving, the first time he did this a few months ago. 

Just got out of his apartment past midnight and went.

There was something calming about it. Something that made him feel peaceful by the time he got back home as the sun rose.

He turns to his brother.

Atsumu continues to snivel and whimper pathetically beside him, his head leaning against the car window. It’s only half an hour later that he gets curious, sitting up.

“So,” He sniffs, “Where are we goin’?”

Osamu shrugs. “I dunno yet. Jus’ wanted to drive.”

Atsumu says nothing, only making himself comfortable, kicking one foot up on the dashboard.

“Tsumu, get yer dirty ass foot off my fuckin’ dashboard or so help me god.”

“Yer so anal, ya’d let Sunarin do it all the time.” Atsumu whines, “C’mon be nicer to yer big brother who just went through a shitty breakup.”

“Well, how about _you_ be fuckin’ nicer to yer little brother who just went through a shitty breakup.” Osamu shoots back.

Atsumu’s blood runs cold. His head swivels to look at his twin. 

“When the fuck did that happen?”

Osamu squirms uncomfortably, taking a left turn. “A few months ago.”

“A few mo—“ Atsumu chokes on his own spit, “Why the fuck didn’t ya tell me? What’s _wrong_ with ya?”

Osamu’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. “You’ve been busy, Tsumu. So have I.”

“Bullshit!” Atsumu exclaims, “We tell each other everything! You and Sunarin have been dating since fuckin’ _high school._ Why the fuck wouldn’t ya tell me somethin’ like that?”

“Because if I talked to you, I knew I’d fuckin’ have a breakdown, that’s why.” Osamu spits out, “But now you ‘n yer Omi are a mess and hearin’ you cry was makin’ _me_ cry, so here we fuckin’ are, I guess!”

Atsumu examines the expression on Osamu’s face and sees that his eyes looked swollen too. He thinks back to all the phone calls they’d had the past few months, thinks about how he always assumed that Osamu just sounded tired because of work. He was so absorbed in his own drama that he didn’t even realize that Osamu had stopped mentioning Suna.

Fuck. He feels terrible. Has their twin thing weakened with age or something?

“Samu. Pull over.”

Osamu makes a face. _“What?”_

“You heard me. Pull the fuck over.”

After driving a little more, Osamu does. 

He faces Atsumu. “What the fuck d’ya want?”

“I want you to _talk_ to me.” Atsumu says, turning in his seat to face his brother fully. “What the hell happened with Sunarin?”

Osamu seems to mull something over in his head before taking a deep breath and giving up. 

“He fell outta love with me. That’s all it was.”

“Wow.” Atsumu blinks and then takes out his phone. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”

“The fuck—“ Osamu grabs Atsumu’s wrist, because the fucker actually starts scrolling for Suna’s contact. “Tsumu, calm the fuck down, will ya?”

“What the hell does that mean, fallin’ outta love with ya? After nearly a fuckin’ _decade?_ I’ll kill ‘im, Samu. Say the word and I will.” 

Osamu’s grip on his brother’s wrist tightens because he can tell that he’s being sincere. 

He huffs out a ghost of a laugh, pulling him in for a hug. “Yer so fuckin’ stupid.”

Atsumu’s frozen stiff for a moment, shocked over the rare occurrence of Osamu initiating affection, but relaxes into the hug easily. 

He raises a hand to pat his head. “This better not be to change the topic.”

“I don’t blame ‘im, Tsumu.” Osamu says against his shoulder, “S’not like the break up was all his fault. It jus’ wasn’t workin’ anymore, y’know?”

Atsumu can hear how hard he’s trying not to cry.

“I’m busy with the shop, he’s always everywhere playin’ games…” He continues, his exhale coming out as a shudder, “We tried to make it work but it wasn’t workin’ anymore… I could see ‘im gettin’ tired of me and I felt myself feelin’ the same. We started fightin' all the time. It was miserable.”

“Samu…” Atsumu sighs, his arms around him tightening. “Why the hell didn’t ya tell me?”

Osamu sniffs. “Felt pathetic.”

“That’s even _more_ reason to tell me.” Atsumu retorts. “Don’t hide shit like that from me ever again or I’ll kick yer ass.”

Atsumu begins to pull away from him, but Osamu makes a whiny sound, burrowing closer. 

“Yer fuckin’ cryin’, aren’t ya?” Atsumu teases, “Ya big crybaby.”

“Shut yer trap, ya were sobbin’ to me on the phone just an hour ago.” Osamu shoots back, “‘Sides… how’re ya feelin’? What exactly happened?”

Atsumu guesses they’re having this whole conversation while wrapped in a hug. He assumes Osamu’s too embarrassed to show himself crying, so he’ll let it go without making fun of him for now.

He probably owes Osamu for those months of being a bad brother.

“After his parents found out ‘n basically told him it’s either be straight or nothin’, he lost it ‘n tried to break up with me.” Atsumu explains. 

“Should I kill ‘im?”

Atsumu snorts. “Nah. I already did what I had to do.”

“I guess I get where he’s comin’ from,” Osamu says, “But he’s gotta know he can’t live his life like this, right? There’s gotta be a line somewhere.”

“Yeah.” Atsumu sighs, groaning and burying his face in Osamu’s hoodie, “Samu, tell me I did the right thing.”

“I don’t even know what the hell ya did,” Osamu chuckles and it sounds wet, “But I think I kinda do. Ya did the right thing.”

For some reason, Atsumu genuinely takes comfort in hearing that.

“Samu?”

“Mmm.”

“Are we not done huggin’?”

“Gimme a minute.” He says, “Just another minute.”

Atsumu lets him cry. He deserves to.

“Samu?”

_“What?”_

“I love ya, okay?” He assures. “M’sorry for not noticing. I’ll make it up to ya.”

He feels his brother bury his face deeper into his shoulder. 

“Tsumu?” He croaks weakly.

“Mmm.”

“Make it work with Omi-kun.” He says, “I need to give ‘im a good talkin’ to… but I like how ya are with him. Once he makes ya stop cryin’ all the time, it’ll be great.”

“I’m fuckin’ workin’ on it.” Atsumu huffs. “I said I love ya. Say it back.”

“No.”

“Samu, yer literally cryin’ on me like a baby right now, what pride are ya tryin’ to protect here?”

A pause.

“I love ya, Tsumu.” He mumbles. “I love ya the best.”

Atsumu feels tears prickle at the back of his eyes again. He hides his face in Osamu’s shoulder with a quivery _‘Damn you, Samu.’_

__

Komori and Yachi can do nothing as they watch Sakusa Kiyoomi crumble. He does not cry. He does not yell. But he drinks.

Oh, does he drink.

“Where do you think he went?” Sakusa garbles, cheek pressed against the table. “He told me he wouldn’t let me move out ‘cause he wanted me to see him suffer… and then he _left.”_

“Dude, all his stuff are still here,” Komori reassures tiredly, patting Sakusa’s back, “I don’t think he moved out. You have, like, a week off or something, don’t you? He’s probably back in Hyogo.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking yourself to death like this, Sakusa.” Yachi says in a motherly tone, “If anything, you need to spend this time clearing your head. Deciding what your next move is gonna be.”

“I miss him.”

“You broke up with him.” Komori deadpans.

“No, _he_ broke up with me, were you listening to me at all?” Sakusa complains.

“Because _you_ were trying to break up with him! And he knew it! Don’t you realize how sad it is that the man was just waiting for you to do it!” Komori explains. “Honestly, man, I love you and I get why you’ve been acting the way you have all these fucking years, but you can’t live the rest of your life like this. I won’t let you.”

Sakusa turns away, burying his face in his arms. “It’s not like I want to be like this. I don’t _want_ any of this.”

“Then _why_ are you doing it?” Komori asks and he sounds just as frustrated as Sakusa feels.

“Because!” Sakusa starts, anxiously pulling his gloves up, like a nervous tic, “I don’t fucking know, okay? I don’t know. I just didn’t know what the hell else to do. I was spiraling and my fucking parents were about to leave me in the dust and I hated the fact that Atsumu was seeing it all happen, and… shit, I don’t know, okay?” He finishes lamely, thumping his head against the wooden table beneath him, “I don’t fucking know.”

Komori sighs like he’s tired of it all, and Sakusa thinks, _felt._

“So, tell me what exactly your plan was gonna be after breaking up with Atsumu… Were you gonna go back to your parents and tell them you’ll try to be straight or what?”

Yachi gives Komori a look. “Be _nice.”_

“He doesn’t listen to _nice.”_ Komori bites back. “I’ve been trying that all these years, and he never fucking listens. So, he’s gonna get the tough love he deserves.”

Sakusa finally looks up at this, blinking at his cousin with half dead eyes.

“Do you think that if you break up with Atsumu, you’re somehow saving him from a hard, miserable life with you? Do you think that if you break up with him, and are single again, you’ll somehow appease your parents and you can go back to the way things were like nothing happened?”

Yachi winces at the side, having no choice but to watch it all unfold.

“Well, tough luck, buddy, because that’s not how that works.” Komori presses. “Because if it’s not gonna be Atsumu, it’s gonna be somebody else. And guess what, Omi, he’s _still_ gonna be a man.”

When Sakusa swallows, his tongue feels like sandpaper.

“And I have a strong feeling in my gut that if you let Atsumu go, you’re gonna spend the rest of your life regretting the fact that you let go of the person you’ve been half in love with since you were fifteen, when he gave you a fucking choice to _stay.”_

Sakusa wants to yell, he wants to throw a goddamn tantrum, he wants to throw things, and cry, and tell Komori that he doesn’t know the first thing about what it feels like to be gay and have the parents that he has. But he can’t say anything. He can only listen and take it.

Because he was right.

“I love you, okay? And I know you’re gonna say I’m gross for that, but I’m saying this because I love you and I’m not gonna watch you throw your life away.” 

By the time Komori finishes, he’s breathing heavily. 

When minutes pass and Sakusa still hasn’t said anything, resorting to staring at the wall as if it's done something wrong, it’s Yachi who takes over, taking her beer bottle and casually placing it on top of Sakusa’s head, the cold condensation sinking into Sakusa’s curls.

Komori gapes.

“Yachi,” Sakusa blinks at her vacantly. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Waking you up.” She says simply, “So that it gets to your head that if you go through this hard part, this _really_ hard part, for a little while longer, you’ll have the rest of your life to be happy. _Truly_ happy. And you’ll be happy... because you’ll be free.”

She leans down so Sakusa has no choice but to look at her.

“I was scared once too, you know?” She shares in a low voice, as if letting him in on an important secret, “It’s okay to be scared. It only makes sense that you are. But you know what you’re supposed to do when you are?”

“What?” He asks, because he trusts her, because sometimes, he feels like Yachi Hitoka knows all the secrets of the homo universe. 

“You ask for help.”

Three nights ago, Sakusa had listened to Atsumu sob through their joint wall, listened to the rummaging, the footsteps, and their front door opening and closing at three in the morning.

Two nights ago, the realization had hit him that they had a weeklong break and he had nowhere to go. He didn’t have his family anymore, nor did he have Atsumu’s. 

The night before, he’d sat in the kitchen, drinking away his problems, hoping to get some form of sympathy from his two best friends, and instead got a knock to the head with a beer bottle.

After they’d left, he’d drunk called Atsumu twice to no avail. ( _Shit,_ he wasn’t blocked now, was he?)

Today, he makes a decision. 

In and out. Inhale, exhale. It’ll be fine.

  
  


__

“Akari,” Miya Itsuki calls out from his position in the living room, “Did the twins say when they’ll be back from their hike?”

Miya Akari hums in thought, her hands busy putting away the leftover fatty tuna onigiri she’d made in preparation for her two sons coming home. 

“They didn’t say. The term they’d used was _soul searching_ and _twin time.”_

Itsuki snorts. “What a load o’ crap.”

Akari clicks her tongue. “Those two… they never could do anythin’ alone. If one of ‘em did somethin’, the other just _had_ to follow soon after. Shouldn’t even be surprised that it applies even with heartbreak.”

“Samu and Rintarou were a shame…” Itsuki ponders, “But, it was somethin’ that couldn’t have been helped.”

“Time heals and time hurts, is what they say.” Akari says back, “Samu’s been copin’ the best he can and I think he’ll be alright now that he’s spendin’ time with his brother… Tsumu and Kiyoomi however…”

Itsuki sighs. “Atsumu’s our son so I don’t like seein’ him get hurt, but I can’t say I don’t feel for Kiyoomi. He’s livin’ through exactly what we made sure our twins wouldn’t have to.”

“I wish I could help the boy, y’know?” Akari thinks out loud, walking towards her husband to join him on the couch, “As a mother of two kids who are gay. But whenever I see him, I can’t help but feel like it isn’t my place.”

Itsuki only hums in response, resting a hand on her thigh.

“It’s hard to watch, though.” She exhales, “Watchin’ our son hurt so much… and watchin’ that boy hurt himself.”

Her husband only nods softly, squeezing her thigh reassuringly, before switching on the TV with an, “I’m sure they’ll be alright. They’ll do what they need to do… ‘n so will we.”

The sun is only starting to set when they hear a hesitant knock on their door.

Akari sits up slowly, “Already? I thought they’d be takin’ a few more days.”

“It’s probably just the neighbor again askin’ us for fresh eggs. Shinsuke’s chickens could be makin’ a fortune if he stopped givin’ ‘em out for free.”

Akari peaks through the peephole and turns to look at her husband, knowingly. 

“It’s Kiyoomi.”

Itsuki’s eyes widen considerably before he sits up, patting his shirt and messy hair down. 

“Oh, dear. Here we go.”

Akari takes a deep breath, preparing herself, before she swings the door open, acting surprised. “Oh! Kiyoomi! We weren’t expectin’ ya—“

She cuts herself off after getting a clearer view of the boy standing in front of her. 

His eyes were bloodshot, hair unkempt, completely bundled up, including his gloves and mask, yet he was still shivering underneath it all. 

Akari couldn’t say if it was simply because of the cold.

“Kiyoomi, dear?” She takes him by the elbow, her motherly instincts taking over, “D’ya wanna come in? Yer shaking.”

Itsuki stands up in concern, eyebrows furrowing at Sakusa’s current state.

Sakusa steps into the living room that he’d been in many times before, yet somehow, it felt so unfamiliar without Atsumu standing right next to him. 

“Akari-san, Itsuki-san, I’m really sorry to intrude, I just…” Sakusa drifts off, blinking rapidly, trying to gather his thoughts. 

He’d gotten on the train in a trance but now that he was here, he didn’t know what to say to them, what he was gonna say to Osamu to avoid being punched in the face, and what the hell he was going to say to Atsumu. 

Should he just get on his knees and beg for their forgiveness now?

A hand on his shoulder is what pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Yer never intrudin’ here, I hope ya know that.” Itsuki says, patting him roughly, “Yer never intrudin’.”

“I’m sorry,” Sakusa bites his bottom lip. “But is Atsumu here? I need to… I need to talk to him.”

“C’mere, take a seat first,” Akari insists, leading him to the couch. “Yer shakin’ like a leaf, sweetie, what’s wrong?”

Sakusa doesn’t know what it is. 

Was it the fact that the parents of the man he’d hurt so much were still treating him with so much kindness despite probably knowing exactly what happened? Was it the fact that he felt like shit for it? 

Was it simply the fact that he was feeling so much warmth from a mother and father, regardless of them not being his own?

All he does know is that he feels himself starting to unravel.

“M’sorry to say that the twins aren’t here right now,” Itsuki explains, taking a seat next to Sakusa, laying a warm hand on his back. “They’re out on some mountain, hikin’, said they wanted to have some Twin Time, whatever the hell that means.”

“Oh.” Sakusa says and his voice sounds so small. 

He feels so small right now and he doesn’t understand why.

He’s not exactly sure if what he feels is disappointment or relief, but he knows that it’s heavy. He knows that he’s sitting here and he still doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing.

And he keeps wondering, why the hell they’re being so kind to him right now, when they’re supposed to be angry. 

“I’m really sorry.” He says and it comes out as nothing but a whisper. They hear it, anyway.

“Oh, Kiyoomi,” Akari says, taking one of his gloved hands in hers, “Don’t be sayin’ that stuff. Not to us.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Sakusa continues, doesn’t know why he can’t seem to stop himself from opening his mouth now that he’s started, “I didn’t wanna keep hurting him, I didn’t mean to,” He chokes on a breath, “I’m so sorry.”

“Enough o’ that nonsense.” Itsuki says and his voice sounds firm, but not in the way his dad's was. “I need ya to know that we don’t blame you for anythin’. Not even fer a second. Don’t be apologizin’ to us like that.”

“But, I…” Sakusa stutters, feeling like there should be more yelling involved here, “I tried to…”

Akari squeezes his hand. “Ya don’t need to explain yerself to us. What happens between you and our son, is yer business and yers alone. Us bein’ his parents doesn’t change that. You understand that?”

Sakusa doesn’t, honestly. 

“I’m sorry, still.” He says, looking up at them. “I love him so much. I didn’t want to hurt him.”

He doesn’t know why, but the emotions in their eyes at that moment, simply seemed sad.

“Kiyoomi,” Akari starts and Sakusa feels horrified when he hears that she sounds like she’s about to cry, “I may not know what exactly yer goin’ through and I may not know yer parents… but I am one. I understand what it is to _be_ one.”

Sakusa holds onto her every word. He knows he can trust someone who raised someone like Miya Atsumu.

“Sometimes,” She sighs, “parents make mistakes ‘n do the wrong things, because they believe it’s right. Some never stop ‘n ask themselves whether or not what’s best for them is what’s best for their child. And they don’t realize how much they’re hurting ‘em.”

Sakusa’s breath catches in his throat.

“It may not be my place to say, but if ya think that yer parents despise you now, I don’t think that’s the case.” She says, raising one of her hands to cup his cheek, “They just don’t realize that their love is the kind of love that’s suffocating you.” 

_Oh god,_ Sakusa thinks.

“Even parents do terrible things sometimes,” Itsuki says, “Hell, sometimes they’re the one’s capable of doin’ the _worst_ things ‘n the worst part is they don’t even know they’re doin’ it.”

“Exactly.” Akari says, directing a gentle smile to her husband. “And sometimes, ya need to be the one to point it out to them. They might listen, they might not, they might ask for forgiveness, they might leave ya forever… but this life is _yours_ to live, darlin’.”

“ _You_ get to decide how ya wanna live it. You are not obligated to do anythin’, hell, you ain’t even obligated to forgive them if they ask for it. They hurt you ‘n you are allowed to do what ya need to process that pain.”

 _Oh god,_ Sakusa thinks again, as his entire body starts to tremble, his vision blurring at the edges.

“You can choose yer family, Kiyoomi.” Itsuki declares and it sounds like all Kiyoomi has ever needed to hear. “Ya already have one that you’d unconsciously chosen right here with ya.”

“You are _allowed_ to be happy.” Akari says, rubbing a thumb against his cheek. “You should be allowed to live your life without feelin’ like there’s a cost.”

And Sakusa is taken back to his childhood, back to that one afternoon, sitting in a ratty desk, staring up at a man who he’d believed to be wise, declaring to them, _gay people go to hell,_ unknowingly embedding it into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s brain for the rest of his life. 

He feels like he’s ten years old again, when he opens his mouth, and unconsciously asks,

“Even if I’m gay?” He mumbles.

Itsuki looks pained.

“No,” Akari is close to tears as she tightens her grip on his hands and says, “Because you are _human.”_

He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until he’s being pulled into a warm embrace. He feels two pairs of arms wrapped around him, and he thinks, _oh._

He tries to breathe, tries to think of his mantra, in and out, inhale, exhale, but it doesn’t work. When he tries to inhale, it comes out as a choked breath. When he tries to exhale, it comes out as a sob ripping out of his throat.

He doesn’t even remember the last time he’d cried. Was it in college? High school? Was it the night he realized he was gay in the first place? 

It’s been more than just a couple of years.

It should feel like relief but it doesn’t. It’s violent and he feels like he’s being ripped apart and he folds his body in half and cries into his knees. 

He doesn’t know what sounds he’s making, he can’t hear, he can’t feel his face, or his hands, he can’t feel anything but the searing pain in his chest and throat that won’t go away and he’s scared.

 _“Please,”_ He manages to get out in the middle of his sobbing, gasping for air, _“Please make it stop,”_ and he doesn’t even know who he’s begging to. 

“C’mere, baby,” Akari says and she’s crying too as she pulls Sakusa in properly, pressing his face into her shoulder, reaching up to pet his hair, and it feels so nice that it makes him cry even more. “It’s okay. It’s alright. Jus’ let it out.”

She holds onto him so tightly and it’s like she’s keeping the pieces of him together so they don’t drift away from him, so he just cries, and cries, and cries, harder than he ever has in his life.

It’s so painful. It’s agonizing. He wants to fucking die.

But he thinks back to Yachi’s words, her voice saying, _once you get through the really hard part, you’ll have the rest of your life to be happy._

So, he lets himself feel it. He lets himself feel every single thing he’d never allowed himself to just sit down and feel.

_It’s okay to be scared. But you know what you’re supposed to do when you are?_

He raises his arms, takes hold of the back of Akari’s shirt, holds onto her for dear life, and allows himself to let go, silently asking for her to catch him.

_Ask for help._

And he realizes that he has nothing to be afraid of anymore. Because no matter what happens next, his worst fear his whole life had already been resolved.

He didn’t have to choose between his happiness and his family.

Right now, he thinks, as he sobs like a child into the arms of a mother and father, he realizes he can have both.

He is allowed to have both. Because he is human.

  
  


**_T MINUS 45 MINUTES TO THE WEDDING_ **

“Hey, Rin.” Osamu says, staring at the sky instead of at the man beside him, “Ya think we could’ve gotten married?”

Suna doesn’t even seem taken aback by the question. He laughs and answers, “Probably not.”

Osamu swivels his head to the side and gives him an offended look. “Why the hell not? Ya sayin’ I wouldn’t have made a good husband?”

“M’sayin’ we were practically already married considerin’ how long we were together ‘n we got a divorce.” He points out.

Osamu can’t deny that, but he’s still bitter. “Whatever.”

Suna smiles gently, nudging him. “Why? Ya miss me?”

“Get over yerself.” Osamu scoffs, biting back his own smile. 

He did miss Suna Rintarou. No matter what, they were still together for nearly ten years, after all. 

They sit in comfortable silence for a little while, letting the background noises of wedding preparations and the chatter of volleyball players take over.

It’s Suna who suddenly asks, “Is it true that ya went hikin’ with Atsumu to deal with yer breakups?”

“Yep.” Osamu confirms. “Climbed a goddamn mountain ‘n once we got to the top, we screamed our fuckin’ heads off ‘til we were exhausted ‘n hiked back down.” 

“Ya yelled yer woes into the sky?” Suna teases, “How cinematic of ya.”

“What can I say, Sunarin? Ya broke my heart.” Osamu jokes except he isn’t really joking.

Suna chuckles and it sounds sad, but he doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Hey, Rin.” Osamu says again and Suna hums in response.

“Where d’ya think we went wrong?” He asks, kicking a pebble, staring at the ground, at anything but him. “Ya think we just didn’t love each other enough?”

Suna shakes his head. “Not that. I dunno ‘bout anythin’ else, but it wasn’t that.”

They’re quiet again, for a little longer this time, and Osamu breathes out a laugh as he remembers something Atsumu had told him. 

And suddenly, it all makes more sense.

“S’not that we didn’t love each other enough,” Osamu thinks out loud, “It’s that we loved each other differently.”

This seems to be the thing that gets to Suna. He looks at him. “What does that mean?”

“Back then, in the fuckin’ mountains, I asked Atsumu if he wasn’t tired of cryin’ all the time, if he didn’t wanna just… give up ‘n leave him ‘n find someone who wasn’t carryin’ so much baggage.” Osamu explains, “And he looked at me like I was fuckin’ insane.”

Suna snorts. “Sounds like ‘im.”

“Said that no matter how miserable he and his Omi get, he knows for a fact that they’d be more miserable without each other ‘n that’s just how it is.” Osamu sighs, leaning back, “Said he’d never let go of ‘im because he loved him too much to let ‘im do that to them.”

Suna continues to stare, waiting.

“They loved each other enough to know not to let go,” He explains, “and we loved each other enough to know that we had to.”

Osamu pauses, looks at him and repeats, “S’not that we didn’t love each other enough, it’s that we loved each other differently.”

It takes a second to sink in, but when it does, Suna smiles, looks up at the sky as if to appreciate the weather, but Osamu knows it’s to hold back tears. 

“M’always gonna love ya, Miya Osamu.” He says it like it’s just fact. “Maybe not _in love_ …. but love, all the same.”

Osamu doesn’t say anything back, because he knows that Suna knows. 

Instead, “Those two are lucky as hell, aren’t they? I’ll never fuckin’ let Tsumu forget it.”

Suna laughs. “I don’t think he ever could.”

  
  


**_T MINUS 10 MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING_ **

  
  


A full week passes. 

Sakusa is already sitting in their living room by the time Atsumu walks into their apartment, looking a lot better than the last time Sakusa had seen him. 

His eyes were still bloodshot, but still. 

They meet each other’s gaze and it’s quiet for a moment, as they study each other. Sakusa wants to ask about the hike. Atsumu wants to ask about why the hell he’d apparently visited their home in Hyogo and talked to his parents. They don’t do either of those things.

“Ya look like shit.” Atsumu points out.

“I know.” Sakusa answers. “I went to Hyogo a few days ago. I talked to your parents.”

Atsumu pauses, before closing the door behind him, and walking towards Sakusa, setting his duffel bag down and settling on the couch. “I heard.”

Sakusa purses his lips.

“Were ya plannin’ on beggin’ for me to come back, Omi-Omi?”

Sakusa almost laughs at the way Atsumu somehow manages to make light of even this kind of situation. “I don’t know what I was gonna do then, honestly. But I do now.”

“Do ya now?” Atsumu asks and Sakusa can’t seem to read how he’s feeling, “What’s that?”

He takes a deep breath.

“I’m not gonna apologize to you just yet.” Sakusa declares.

Atsumu’s eyes widen very slightly, the only thing that gives out anything on how he’s feeling. 

“There’s too much I have to do, too much I have to settle, so many things I have to make up for, a whole fucking… _lifetime_ of unlearning to do.” He says, making sure he keeps his eyes on Atsumu, faces him head on, “But I’m gonna do all of it. And I’m gonna be a better fucking person, a _braver_ person, and I’m gonna make sure that you know it happened because of you.”

The pure shock that Atsumu’s feeling is evident now, despite his obvious attempt at trying to keep it in.

“I’m gonna get to that place, Atsumu. I’m gonna get to a place where I can tell you I love you, without feeling the fear or the shame that would always come with it.” He promises, “And once I’m there, I’m gonna look you in the eye and apologize to you.” 

Atsumu looks like he wants to say something back, but can’t bring himself to find any words. 

Sakusa saves him the trouble. “Will you wait for me?”

Atsumu almost laughs at how ridiculous the question is. He swipes at his eyes, says, “Are ya fuckin’ stupid? ‘Course I will.”

Sakusa smiles, carefully reaching out, giving Atsumu room to reject him, as he opens his arms slightly. 

Atsumu easily reaches for him back, melting into his arms like he always does. “M’proud of you, Omi. I hope ya know that.”

Sakusa holds him tight, pulls back slightly to press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t say that just yet. Save it.”

Atsumu hums and kisses his shoulder. “Shaddup. M’proud of you _always.”_

  
  


**_T MINUS 5 MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING_ **

It’s a weird place to be in.

Being not quite lovers _yet,_ but not just friends either. Kissing each other good morning and good night, but never going past that. (They made out once… okay, a _few_ times… alright, so they almost had sex a few times, they were drunk, _whatever.)_ Sharing the same apartment, but not sleeping in the same bed. (Except for all the times they’d accidentally fall asleep together on the couch, _shut up_ , they really were accidents.)

It’s a strange in between that only happened because of a situation that’s so specific to them so it’s no wonder, really, that no one else understands what the fuck is going on.

“So you’re telling me,” Bokuto starts, looking thoroughly confused, “that you’re not together… but also, together.”

“Yep.” Atsumu nods, comfortably resting his head against Sakusa’s arm thrown around his shoulders. 

“So, Omi-kun isn’t your boyfriend.” Bokuto clarifies.

“Nope.”

“Okay… So, is he allowed to have a boyfriend?”

“Only if it’s me!” 

“What if it isn’t?”

“I’ll slice his head off.”

 _“Atsumu.”_ Sakusa scolds, whacking him on the back of the head.

“This is making my head hurt.” Hinata complains, massaging his temples. “Why is everything with you guys so complicated?”

“Yeah, Omi,” Atsumu repeats, blinking up at Sakusa, “Why is everything with us so complicated?”

Sakusa gives him a look. “You _know_ why.”

“I _knooooow.”_ Atsumu whines, “But, Omi, I miss ya.”

“We live together.” Sakusa deadpans. "We work together too."

“Not like _that.”_ Atsumu argues, “I miss sleepin’ in one bed! I miss kissing you! I miss havin’ yer dick in my ass!”

“Yep, and that’s our cue to leave!” Hinata says, slapping his thighs and standing up, setting his empty beer bottle down on the table. “Let’s go, Bokuto-san! It’s getting late! Let’s leave before this gets—“

“No, wait, I’m intrigued.” Bokuto says, leaning forward. “Omi-kun, do you always top?”

 _“Bokuto-san!”_ Hinata yells, pulling him up by the arm. “We’re leaving! Bye, guys!”

When the door clicks shut, Sakusa starts laughing. “Omi-kun, do you always top, he said.”

Atsumu pouts a little. “What d’ya think it is? Even the fans think so. I’m fuckin’ 6 feet tall and have arguably bigger thighs than you. Is it my aura?”

“Yeah, it’s probably ‘cause you’re a big baby bitch.” Sakusa answers, honestly. “That’s probably it.”

Atsumu reaches out and pinches his nose in retaliation. 

“Ow! The fuck, Atsumu!” Sakusa yelps, grabbing his wrist.

“See, that’s what ya get fer bein’ mean to me.” Atsumu laughs, letting go. 

They’re quiet for a few minutes after that, basking in each other’s presence, Atsumu drawing circles on Sakusa’s stomach, Sakusa’s lips just pressed against the top of his head. 

“Omi?” He mumbles.

“Hmm?”

“Will you apologize and be my boyfriend again now?”

Sakusa’s breath comes out as a muted chuckle. “You’re cute.”

“What?” Atsumu fusses, slapping his stomach lightly. “Say yes, ya asshole.”

“Atsumu,” Sakusa says, grabbing onto Atsumu’s hand, “You know I’ve never _not_ been yours, right?”

He makes a small, whiny noise. “I know that.”

“There’s just one more thing I have to do.” Sakusa says, and it reads like an oath, “Just _one_ more. And then, I’ll apologize to you and make you the happiest fucking man on earth.”

Atsumu sighs deeply, groaning into Sakusa’s chest. _“Fine._ I’ll be patient. But just so you know, once this is over, yer eatin’ my neglected ass for breakfast everyday, ya hear me?”

Sakusa gulps. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

Atsumu looks up with a sly smirk. “A temptation.”

“Fuck you,” Sakusa grumbles, “I hate you, the thought of doing it made me _hard,_ damn you.”

Atsumu properly laughs at the sight, the fucking bitch that he is. “A man gettin’ hard at the mere thought of putting his tongue in my ass? Ya really are my fuckin’ soulmate, Omi-Omi. Never leave me.”

“I _can’t.”_ He says, hopelessly. “God knows I’ve tried.”

That night, after having to tuck Atsumu into bed like the spoiled brat he is, Sakusa leans against the wall and drafts the most important letter he’ll probably ever have to make. He feels his fingers hesitate and tremble, but he takes a breath and steels himself.

In and out. Inhale, exhale. Even if it won’t be okay, it’ll be fine.

_Mom and dad, it’s Kiyoomi. I’m saying it just in case you deleted my number…_

  
  


**_T MINUS 3 MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING_ **

“Shoyo! Get it up!” Hoshiumi yells, and Hinata springs into action, crouching as low as he can on the ground with arms outstretched, hitting a perfect receive.

“Nice receive!” Atsumu praises, running closer to the net, doing a quick scan to see who’s open.

“Left!” Sakusa yells, raising a hand in the air. They meet eyes and Atsumu sends him a knowing smile.

“Omi-kun!” He calls out, tossing the ball in his direction, that familiar toss, the one adjusted to be only for him, just like when they were sixteen in that god forsaken camp. 

The ball fits snug right into his palm and he slams it down. Argentina tries to pick it up but fails. 

The whistle blows. He vaguely hears them announce Japan’s win.

The screams are deafening. He’s pretty sure everyone’s crying. He can’t be sure whether the fluid on his cheeks are sweat or tears, maybe both. 

He feels himself getting pulled into a sweaty group hug and he’s slightly grossed out and then he sees Bokuto lifting Hinata in the air like Simba, Hoshiumi doing a victory yell while kneeling on the ground, Kageyama trying to get Bokuto to put his boyfriend down so he can kiss him, and he looks at Atsumu who seems to be looking for his family in the stands.

Sakusa spots them in the crowd. Both his parents were crying and he’s pretty sure Osamu was teary eyed, just a little bit. He notices they’re waving at him too. He waves back and can’t really help how big his smile is.

And he thinks, _now._

“Atsumu?” 

Sakusa Kiyoomi is twenty-six when he looks at Miya Atsumu and Miya Atsumu looks back at him, standing in the middle of a volleyball court, having just won the gold medal for their country, that he realizes that in this life, he can’t spend it with anyone else, but him. 

“My Omi-Omi!” Atsumu exclaims, throwing his arms in the air excitedly, before wrapping them around his neck.

Sakusa melts into the hug, drowns himself in it, for just a moment, before pulling back to look him in the eye. “I’m gonna say it now.”

It takes Atsumu a moment to understand, his expression going from confused to elated. His hands tighten around Sakusa’s shoulders.

“Atsumu, I’m sorry.” Sakusa says, sincerely, pressing their foreheads together. Atsumu tenses in surprise at the display of affection in front of an entire crowd. 

“Omi?” He squeaks. “You do know we’re in front of a thousand people right now, right?”

Sakusa ignores him. “Do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do.” Atsumu says, like it’s the stupidest question he’s ever heard.

Sakusa slides his hands down Atsumu’s arms, takes both his hands in his. “Do you still love me?”

Sakusa watches Atsumu swallow, eyes turning glassy. “Not a day has passed that I haven’t, Omi-Omi.” He sniffs, “Are ya askin’ me to be yer boyfriend again?”

“No,” Sakusa says, “I’m asking you to marry me.”

Sakusa had never seen Atsumu’s eyes go as wide as they did at those words. His hands tighten in his hold. His chin wobbles, the tears that have been threatening to spill, finally running down his face.

“Fuck, Omi,” Atsumu sobs, “Ya can’t just spring that on me, we… _fuck,_ our marriage isn’t even _legal!”_

“I don’t care.” Sakusa says, wiping Atsumu’s tears away. “I don’t give a shit. We can have some stupid ass ceremony in our apartment with all our friends for all I care, and then someday, I’ll buy you a diamond ring and we’ll get married in Australia or fuckin’ Las Vegas, I don’t _care,_ Atsumu. I’m just asking you to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Atsumu is hysterical at this point.

“Will you?” Sakusa asks, getting more and more nervous the longer he isn’t getting an answer.

“Yes.” Atsumu nods frantically, “Yes, _shit,_ of course I will, what the _fuck_ kinda question is that _._ ”

A smile forms on Sakusa’s face the exact same moment that tears start falling and without thinking about anything else other than the fact that he’s engaged, he does the first thing he can think of doing.

Right in front of all the players, the spectators, the crowd of thousands, the cameras broadcasting them on live television, he pulls Atsumu in and kisses him.

And he thinks, maybe this is what they all meant when they’d told him what it is to live a life that is free, live a life that is true, and live a life that is his.

He doesn’t hear whether the crowds boo or cheer (they’re _definitely_ cheering), he doesn’t hear his teammates screaming bloody murder, he doesn’t think about whether or not his parents are watching him somewhere out there on TV.

He only hears the sound of his own heartbeat, only feels the press of lips against his own, and only recognizes the feeling of arms around him that feel exactly like home. 

  
  


__

_Mom and dad, it’s Kiyoomi. I’m saying it just in case you deleted my number. Hopefully, I’m not blocked._

_It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken. Honestly, a part of me planned to just never speak to you again. But I know that if I want to move forward without looking back, this is something I have to do. I’m sending you this message to let you know that I’m planning to ask Atsumu to marry me. To be clear, I’m not asking for your permission. I’m just letting you know. You may not understand us, you may not understand me, but I’m sure you understand love._

_And I love him. Sincerely, wholeheartedly, unconditionally, so much that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop. I always felt like I was suffocating but around him, I can breathe. And I’ve just decided that I can’t hold my breath for the rest of my life. I can’t. I’ve tried._

_I want you to know that you hurt me and that you’ve been hurting me my whole life by rejecting something that’s part of who I am. You’ve always told me back then that you want me to be happy, right? Well, this is me now, chasing after my happiness, whether you approve of it or not. But I need you to know something._

_I am still me. I am the same baby you held in your arms and named, the same boy you raised, the same one you sang to sleep, played volleyball with, ate meals with, watched movies with, the same one you held for so long before he went off to college, the same one you’ve called your pride and joy, the same one you’ve showered with love and praise his whole life, it’s still me._

_I’m still Kiyoomi, your son. And I spent my entire life hiding this part of me from you in fear that you’d take that away from me when it was my favorite thing to be._

_I’m not going to block your numbers and I’m not going to change my address. I’ll be right here. I’ll be moving forward whether you come with me on the journey or not. But I’ll be honest and say that I hope one day, after some time, you do. Please don’t come see me yet and please don’t come to my wedding, for both our sakes. It’ll be too soon. But eventually, if you find that your love for your son is bigger than your prejudice..._

_I won’t ask for you to grovel at my feet, I won’t ask for you to beg on your knees, I won’t ask for you to march with me in Pride Parades, I honestly don’t ask for much at all._

_I just want you to accept me, fully, for who I am. Love me not despite the fact that I’m gay, but simply because I’m your son. And in accepting me, accept Atsumu too. I know you’ll love him and the rest of his family. It’s hard not to._

_And once you do, once you truly do accept me, I want you to look me in the eye and apologize to me._

_I’m going to live my life now. And whether you come with me or not, it’s your choice. I’ll be going forward, regardless. But know this. No matter what decision you come to, know that your son loved you both so much that he was almost willing to throw his whole life away just to keep you. Know that your son loves you both so much, even now, and that he will for the rest of his life whether he likes it or not._

_You have a good fucking son and he’s going to conquer the world with or without you._

_So if you lose him forever, just remember that it wasn’t his choice, it was yours._

**_T MINUS 1 MINUTE TO THE WEDDING_ **

So, their wedding happens in the front yard of the Miya family’s new home situated in Tokyo. They use monoblock chairs. Ushijima made them balloon animals. The balloons that aren’t animals have _Happy Birthday_ written on them. Atsumu and Sakusa bought their wedding rings in a carnival stand. 

Not a lot of people are invited. The Jackals, the Japan Team, a few friends and teammates from Itachiyama and Inarizaki, Suna, Kita, Yachi. Atsumu’s family, and Sakusa’s family that really just consisted of Komori. Yuu comes, too. 

They don’t wanna pay anyone to officiate a fake wedding, so they got one who’d do it for free. Which happened to be...

“Okay, so when the fuck’re they gonna start walkin’ down the aisle?” Osamu complains, fiddling with his tux, “This shit is uncomfortable.”

Bokuto and Hinata stand at the sides with phones in their hands, vlogging the whole thing to upload on the Jackals’ Youtube channel. This would, apparently, be their confirmation of their relationship. (Which Sakusa’s confused by, because he was pretty sure kissing during the Olympics is a pretty obvious confirmation.)

“Hey, everyone shut up, they’re about to come out!” Meian yells, shushing everyone.

“Good for them.” Suna comments.

It’s Atsumu who walks out first, looking like he hadn’t spent the majority of his time inside crying, holding onto his father’s arm. Their friends whoop and cheer, Atsumu waving to the small crowd like royalty.

He stands at the makeshift altar, faces his twin and they instinctively punch each other’s shoulder. 

Sakusa follows, hand in hand with Akari. Once he walks out, the audience goes quiet, as if it all just finally sunk in, and they’re all turning to look at him but he can only see Atsumu, waiting for him at the end. 

It’s a fake wedding, they’re in a front yard, they’re wearing their best outfits for a wedding that has balloon animals and party streamers. 

Sakusa has never been so happy in his life.

He reaches the end, Akari pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He steps up onto a weird box that he assumed was supposed to be an altar, and he faces his very soon to be husband. 

When they meet each other’s eyes, they laugh.

“This is so stupid.” Sakusa says, shaking his head.

“I know,” Atsumu retorts, “It’s perfect.”

“Everyone!” Osamu announces with a voice that sounded more like a sports commentator than a wedding officiant, “I will have ya know that I have absolutely no clue how to officiate a wedding, so let’s jus’ get this shit started."

“Oh, the vows.” Atsumu says, tapping his brother’s arm, “Don’t we start with vows or somethin’?”

“We’re doing vows?” Sakusa’s eyes widen, “I didn’t write any fucking vows.”

“Atsumu said it’s time for vows!” Osamu yells, “Omi-kun, Tsumu, state your vows ‘n then put your damn rings on each other… _go!”_

“I’ll start, ‘cause I actually thought somethin’ up while I was gettin’ my makeup retouched for the third time.” Atsumu coughs, reaching out to take Sakusa’s hand.

“You could’ve warned me.” Sakusa grumbles.

“Shaddup.” Atsumu huffs. “Anyway… here goes nothin’. My Omi-Omi,”

Sakusa’s already smiling. 

“I’ve loved you since we were sixteen, maybe even fifteen.” He says, interlacing their fingers together, “We may have taken a lot of detours, we may have let a lot of shit get in the way, but know that I’ve loved you for that long, and know that I’ve never stopped, and that I never will. For all my goddamn life and now for the rest of it too, it’s only you for me, Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Atsumu’s all teary again as he takes one of the rings from Osamu and slides it on Sakusa's ring finger, but Sakusa doesn’t even have it in him to make fun of him ‘cause so is he. He thinks he hears Bokuto sobbing somewhere in the background. 

He realizes then and there that he didn’t need to have a vow prepared. He knew exactly all he had to say. 

“Miya Atsumu,” He begins, “- the moment I saw you at fifteen years old, you changed me forever.”

He hears Komori blowing his nose and Sakusa feels like he needs to do the same.

“I’ve spent a lot of my life living a lie in an attempt to convince myself that if I lied long enough, it’d stop being one. But, I’m done now.”

The smile on Atsumu’s face is almost ethereal.

“About a year ago, during one of our… _detours,_ a good friend told me something. _There’s no point in living a life that isn’t true.”_

Yuu quietly grins from the audience.

“I’m standing here today,” He says, looking at the rest of his life right in front of him, “- because loving you is the truest thing about me.”

Osamu hands him the ring with a look that says, _I trust you_ , and as he takes it and slides the ring on Atsumu’s finger, he silently makes a promise that he can.

When they kiss, it feels like his first breath of air.

__

**SAKUATSU WEDDING VLOG || MSBY BLACK JACKALS**

5,901,987 views uploaded 1 day ago

Everyone, just so you know, we cried during the wedding, cried editing this, and cried rewatching it. Now, go comment nice things and tell them to have fun on their honeymoon! - Jackals

“Idiots.” Sakusa laughs, running his free hand through Atsumu’s hair, the boy’s head resting on his bare stomach. “Hey, Atsumu?”

“Hmm?”

“Stop touching my dick.”

“We’re on _honeymoon,_ Omi-Omi! We’re supposed to fuck like bunnies!” 

“Jesus, are you not tired? We’ve—“

Sakusa’s phone pings and he glances back at his screen. His heart stops but for some reason, it’s not exactly in a bad way.

He’s not scared anymore.

He doesn’t hesitate before opening it and when he does, he smiles. 

It’s not an apology. But it’s a start.

A few seconds pass and Atsumu looks up at him from his position. “Omi? Are you _crying?”_

Sakusa laughs wetly, shaking his head, and swiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Nah. I’m just happy, y’know?” 

Atsumu smiles softly. “Ya know… interviewers are gonna be all over our business now. What’re ya gonna tell ‘em when they ask about yer story with yer amazing husband?”

Sakusa groans. “I’m not telling them _shit._ That’s embarrassing.”

“No, ya gotta brag about me all the time now!” Atsumu demands, “Tell ‘em the story of how ya saw me at fifteen and fell in love at first sight.”

Sakusa hums. “Then… should I tell them in story form?”

Atsumu raises his eyebrows, amused.

“I’ll tell them about this guy I knew,” Sakusa smiles, “... and how he used to be a liar.”

**Dad**

[sent a photo]

I framed your wedding picture among the rest of the awards you’ve won that have made us proud.

I promise you that one day, when you’re ready to hear it, we will look you in the eye, and apologize for all the pain we’ve caused.

We cannot say yet that we completely understand, we cannot easily suddenly go against everything we were raised to believe in, but you are a son that we cannot bear to lose.

We watched your wedding video and cried with you. No matter what, we are happy to see you happy. 

Kiyoomi, you are our pride and joy and that will not change. We have never been prouder of anything. That is one thing that will always be true. We will work to be parents you can be proud of too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written for three reasons:
> 
> First, to share the painful process of making sense of who you are when you were raised in an environment that told you who you are is wrong. And how sometimes, the people we love most who were raised the same way, will struggle to accept you as well. And the journey of unlearning is long and hard, but not undoable if done with love.
> 
> Second, inspiration from a novel called The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo which shook me to my fucking core and gave me a better understanding of myself and the LGBT community.
> 
> Third, because this year, at age twenty-one, I came out to my friends, some of my family, and to myself - as a lesbian. 
> 
> Everything is so much better but everything is also still scary, even right now. But I hope everyone who is currently in the same place as Sakusa was, or in the same place that I was, you get something good from this story. One day, we'll all get there. Hell, I still have to convince myself of that sometimes, so we're in this together!
> 
> There's no point in living a life that isn't true.


End file.
